Paladins
by Perfgen
Summary: America is under attack. A deadly foe unleashes weapons of mass destruction and masses of fanatical terrorists. When the enemy stages an attack in the city of Tampa as a dress rehearsal they encounter an unsuspected obstacle: FBI counterterrorism agent Kate Beckett and an ex-marine turned college physics professor - Richard Castle.
1. Chapter 1

Very AU.

All the gang are here, just in different roles. I tried to write Rick as a slightly more serious and more confident individual.

The story is set in Tampa, not NYC, the importance of which will be apparent later on.

The time-frame is present time with flashbacks to build Rick and Kate's backstory.

This is my first foray into fan-fiction as an author. Feedback is welcome and appreciated.

The plot and new characters are mine everything else belongs to ABC.

 ** _Tampa Wednesday October 5 2016_**

Kate Beckett wheeled her silver BMW M3 into the parking space. She braked abruptly, stopping the vehicle in the precise center of the space and killed the engine. Both she and her passenger sat silently, the only sounds the ticks and clicks of the cooling engine.

She fixed her gaze on a small, official-looking sign that graced a galvanized steel post at the head end of the parking space. _Supervisory Special Agent Beckett,_ it read, with _Reserved_ in larger letters underneath the name.

Special Agent Hayley Shipton, in the passenger seat, turned to face her. "You made it, girl," Hayley said after a moment. "This is what you've been working toward for years. How does it feel?"

"Fine," Kate replied, repressing the smile that tugged her lips. "I'm excited and proud and all that, but I just don't seem to be as happy as I thought I would be."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm going to miss you, that's why."

"Kate, you're only moving down the hall, it's not like you're transferring to Borneo"

"I know." Kate sighed. "But we've been office mates since you transferred from Forensic Accounting to the field."

Hayley smiled. "Three years. Three good years."

"The best years of my life," Kate agreed. "I wouldn't have made it to this point without you."

"I don't know… "

"Seriously, Hayley, you are the most emotionally stable and wisest person I've ever met. It's really hard to believe you're only twenty-seven."

"It's genetic," her friend replied. "My dad always said sagacity was my mom's middle name."

"Whatever the source," Kate said. "You've kept me grounded, and you always seem to know the right thing to say to help me through the rough spots.

"That's what best friends are for." Hayley gave Kate's hand on the gearshift a quick squeeze. "You don't want to be late on your first day at your new job, so maybe we should get out and head on in."

"Right."

The two women opened their doors, facing the early October heat and humidity of a central Florida morning. They headed toward the nearby office building. The letters over the main entrance identified their destination as the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

As Kate turned onto the final section of walkway leading to the entrance, the turbine-like hum of a vehicle closing in from behind them captured her attention. To her practiced ear it was the seductive beat of a high-output V8 speaking Italian: in other words–Ferrari! Kate successfully resisted the urge to turn and stare as the brilliant red convertible caught up and passed them, pulling in to the first empty visitor space.

"Nice wheels," Hayley said quietly to her friend.

"You have noooo idea." Kate breathed. "That, girl, is a 548 Spyder. I didn't know they were even out yet." Her pace slowed as she feasted her eyes on one of the most beautiful cars she had ever seen.

"You're such a motor head," Hayley teased. "The only reason you didn't ride your bike today was so you could show off your new car."

"Not true," Kate protested with a grin. "I didn't ride the Harley cause it's too hot today to wear my leathers. Not to mention the fact that you still refuse to ride with me."

"Once was enough."

"Come on, it wasn't that bad."

"No, the ride was great. It was getting tossed out of the biker bar after the fight that ruined the mood."

"We only got tossed out because you broke that guy's arm." Kate pointed out.

"And why did I have to break his arm?" Hayley prompted.

Kate felt the faint beginning of a blush rising from beneath the collar of her cream-colored button down. "Because he was getting ready to hit me with a beer bottle."

"And?"

"He was trying to rescue his buddy."

"His buddy with the dislocated shoulder."

"And a concussion," Kate added, just to be helpful. "It wasn't my fault. I told him not to put his hands on me."

Hayley gave a theatrical long suffering sigh. "The things I do to get you to have a social life."

"I warned him." Kate protested.

"Kate, Kate, Kate, in those leathers and the way you were dancing it's a miracle there weren't a couple of coronaries."

"I like to dance. It's not my fault men are jerks."

A hardtop unfolded smoothly from behind the seats and locked into place as the driver exited, straightening up to catch the women's scrutiny. Kate's well-honed powers of observation classified him with practiced efficiency: White male, tall (six feet 2, or so) medium build (two twenty-five maybe). She couldn't help but admire the stranger's erect bearing and confident stride. _Military, more likely ex than current_. He had short reddish-brown hair with a hint of gray. He was dressed rather casually in faded jeans; gingham check button-down and a light blazer. Wire rim glasses gave off a geeky vibe that provided an odd contrast to the way his eyes seemed to be scanning the surroundings, as if there was some danger that lurked in the shadows. _Definitely military, whatever he was, this man has seen the elephant._

The visitor's gaze found hers, and a hot flush heated Kate's cheeks at being caught staring. _Probably here to turn himself in for insider trading, or something white collar_. _No one I'm interested in_.

"Ferrari guy doesn't seem too jerky to me. Maybe if you ask nicely he'll take you for a ride."

"Hayley!"

###

The visitor proceeded toward the main entrance behind the two women. Reaching the entrance at approximately the same time, he stretched to open the door.

"Allow me, ladies," he offered, and his gaze traveled over them from top to bottom. Hayley raised an eyebrow and nodded at the stranger as she passed through. Kate, however, shot him a glare that would have shriveled small, fuzzy mammals had there been any in the line of fire _. Just another jerk that treats women like objects, glad he's not my problem. How could a guy drive such a cool car and be such a jerk?_

###

He paused, frowning for a couple of heartbeats, still holding the door, as the two women disappeared into the building. He shrugged, and walked up to the receptionist, resuming his characteristic crooked grin. "Rick Castle to see Special Agent in Charge Montgomery."

The receptionist nodded, and directed him to a small waiting area. He eyed the rigid molded plastic chairs before choosing one at random. His thoughts turned to the two women. Could one of them be her, the famous "Sparrow Hawk?" Both women had badges and side arms, so they were clearly field agents but neither fit his preconceived idea of what the woman would look like.

Whoever they were, they made a striking pair. Both tall and slender and dressed almost identically in a sharply tailored pantsuit and cream- colored button downs. The brunette appeared to be the older of the two. He noticed she was wearing heels that put her at nearly his eye-level. Her chestnut hair fell to shoulder length in soft waves that perfectly framed her face. Slender and obviously fit, she looked more like a supermodel than a kickass super cop that allegedly ate raw gators for breakfast

The second woman, except for skin tone, hair color and length could almost have been a clone of her - Partner? Her hair was shorter and more of a honey gold that perfectly set off her skin tone; which suggested the luscious color of a perfectly prepared crème caramel.

Rick felt his attention drifting back to the first woman. There was something about her that niggled at his subconscious. Something significant - Oh well, probably just that it's been a long time. A very long time.

Rick rose to take the hand offered by Roy Montgomery.

"How are you doing Roy?"

"Great what can I do for you?"

I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop off the report on the samples you gave us."

"We'll talk in my office." The agent turned and led the way through the doorway that the two women had disappeared through earlier. It was a short walk, and Montgomery showed Rick into his well-appointed office and gestured toward one of two couches facing each other across a chrome and glass coffee table.

"Have a seat, Rick." Roy took a seat opposite and leaned forward expectantly. "You've finished the analysis already?"

"Yep." Rick opened the leather messenger bag he carried and extracted a single sheet of paper. He passed it across to Roy, who almost snatched it away in his eagerness. Rick knew exactly when his friend reached the telling point. He gave a soft huff of astonishment and met Rick's gaze.

Ignoring, for a moment, the smug look on Rick's face, he whistled softly and sank back into the plush cushions. "Cobra DNA?"

"To be precise," Rick pointed out, "DNA from a 'False Water Cobra', it's primarily found in South Africa."

Roy suddenly slapped his knee with his free hand. "Got you, you son of a bitch."

"Roy, what's the context for these samples? Your guys dropped them off at the Institute, but didn't tell us much else."

"Sorry about that, but the case was at a critical stage and it was strictly 'need to know'.

Rick's smirk faded, "Okay this time, but if the Bureau wants the Institute's help in the future then I 'need to know'. My security clearance is probably higher than yours."

"I understand, the orders came from DC, but I'll tell you what I can. The case involved a human trafficking ring operating out of Miami. The prime suspect has an alibi, but a victim who managed to escape claimed that she had been threatened by snakes to keep her quiet."

"Wasn't that enough to get a warrant?"

Roy shook his head with a bit of chagrin. "No one really believed her. She was clearly strung out on heroin, so the snake story was chalked up as at best a drug-induced fantasy.

"So our test results lend credence to her story."

"Oh yes," Roy developed a feral grin, "The prime suspect is a reptile dealer, specializing in venomous reptiles."

Rick couldn't completely suppress a tiny smirk. _I hate human traffickers. Feels good to help take one down. Maybe I should get Lainey a bottle o_ _f that Merlot she likes so much. She outdid herself on this one._

 _Roy stirred as if to rise, but Rick interrupted. "Roy, do you have a minute? There's something else I'd like your help with._

 _"I've got about twenty minutes."_

"The University's long term goal is to become the center for technology research and education in the southeast. Ed has made a lot of progress toward that goal."

Roy chuckled, "Yeah, that's all he talks about at our poker nights. What's his latest idea."

"What we would like to do is to create a medico-legal lab that would focus on the one-off types of cases that defy analysis with standard techniques. We're not interested in mass-producing DNA tests or anything like that. There are already plenty of those available. We're looking for opportunities to help solve a case, but at the same time push back the frontiers of science a little bit."

Montgomery leaned forward. "Are you looking for funding? If you are, I have to tell you that's above my pay grade."

Rick chuckled. "No, we have private funding for the lab itself, but we feel that a more structured relationship with the Bureau would help attract the kind of world-class scientists that we want."

"I think this is a great idea, I've been telling Washington for years that we need to cultivate relationships with local universities. The Bureau's crime lab is the best in the world at what it does, but it can't do everything. I'll study your proposal before I forward it to Washington with my recommendation."

"Thank you, I appreciate your help."

"In the meantime, is there anything else I can do for you?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," Rick replied. "In company with a couple of private investors, the University has created an advanced technology research institute to commercially exploit some of the cutting-edge science being done at the University. The board feels that some of those applications might be of interest in the law enforcement arena, and that it would be useful for the Institute to have a more first-hand appreciation of the issues your folks face, and how technology can assist them."

"I assume that you have some idea as to how to obtain that first-hand appreciation."

"The board would like to appoint a liaison to work with your office in a semi-official capacity. That individual would be responsible for all contact between the Bureau and the Institute, and would work with your people to develop the logistics."

Montgomery held up his hand. "I think we should pause this conversation for a second while I get one of my key people in to hear what you have to say. She was just promoted to head up my Counterterrorism Unit and is the perfect person to make something like this work." He rose and took the few steps to the door of his office. Motioning to his administrative assistant, he said, "Marilyn, can you get Agent Beckett in here for me, please?"

###

Kate received the call in the middle of unpacking her personal effects, and immediately headed down the hall to her boss's office. Knocking softly, she entered and slammed to a halt as she realized there was someone in the office with Roy. She opened her mouth to notify them of her presence, but then closed it quickly as she recognized the visitor. _Oh my God_ , _he must have filed a complaint. I am_ so _busted_.

"Ah, here she is." Roy waved her toward the opposite end of the couch occupied by the stranger. He rose and turned toward her. She could tell the exact microsecond when he recognized her. First, his eyes narrowed, but then the corners of his mouth quirked upward slightly as Roy introduced her. "Professor, this is Supervisory Special Agent Kate Beckett. Agent Beckett, this is Dr. Richard Castle of the University of South Florida."

The professor extended his hand. After a moment's hesitation, she offered hers for a perfunctory shake.

"Please be seated, Kate. The professor was just sharing a proposal that the Bureau work more closely with the University in several ways that are very creative. I told him that you would be the perfect person to give his ideas a fair trial, so I'll let him fill you in on what they are proposing."

Kate nodded and swallowed, relieved that she wasn't going to be reprimanded on her first day.

Rick went back over the main points, but when he reached the point about an official liaison, Kate interrupted. "Pardon me, Dr. Castle, but does the University have a candidate for the liaison role?"

Rick grinned. "Me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Kate finds out that Rick will be the liaison between the FBI and the Orion Institute.**

"Professor, if you contact Agent Beckett next week, she'll be happy to get the ball rolling. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting. Agent Beckett, will you walk Dr. Castle out, please?"

"Of course. Please follow me, sir."

"It'll be my pleasure I'm sure, Agent Beckett. Lead on."

Heat crept up her neck, seeping out from under her collar, but she strode resolutely down the hallway, her heels clicking with authority. They reached the door to the reception area, which she pushed open and held for him. Rick chuckled softly, and Kate pressed her lips together, realizing he was remembering her reaction to his similar action earlier.

"I'm sorry, Agent Beckett," he offered.

"Sorry for what, Professor?"

"Rick."

Kate narrowed her gaze, "Rick what?"

"My name, short for Richard. All this 'Professor' and 'Doctor' stuff seems a bit pretentious after a while."

"You still didn't answer my question, what are you apologizing for?"

"Well, it usually takes me at least ten minutes to offend a beautiful woman when I meet her. I seem to have set a personal record with you. It took—what? Maybe fifteen seconds this morning?"

"I wasn't offended," she snapped. "Now, if you call me after Wednesday, we can discuss your proposal. Here's my card."

"As you say, Agent Beckett." He held her gaze for a second until she dropped hers.

The intensity in his dark blue eyes was not something she was used to encountering. Truth be told, she wasn't used to looking into men's eyes, intense or not.

"I'll be in touch," he said, tossing his visitor badge on the receptionist's desk and striding through the door.

Kate turned and strode up the hall before he was even halfway down the sidewalk, she still felt a little flustered, and she needed her wise and insightful friend. Fortunately, she found Hayley in her office doing paperwork. Closing the office door, perhaps a little more forcefully than was absolutely necessary, she dropped into the armchair across from her friend and pulled her knees up to her chin.

Hayley looked up at the interruption, smiling widely at her friend's behavior. "Well, it looks like you had an interesting morning. Care to share what's got you all worked up?"

"I'm not _worked up_ ," Kate retorted. "I'm just a little confused, that's all."

"Does your confusion have anything to do with Ferrari guy?"

"No!" She caught the look Hayley gave her and mumbled, "Well…maybe."

"So tell me about it. What happened?"

Kate gave her the fifty-cent summary of the professor's proposal, ending up with her assignment to work with him as the liaison with the Bureau.

"So, what do you know about this guy, other than he drives a really hot car?"

"Nothing yet, "Kate responded. "I haven't had time to do any checking on my own. I know he was cleared by Headquarters to work with us, so he's probably not a serial killer or anything horrid."

Hayley chuckled and started typing on her laptop. "Well, this is interesting. It looks like your professor is Richard Castle, Distinguished Professor of Theoretical Physics at USF. "

"Physics? Why would a physicist be interested in working with the Bureau?"

"Don't know, but …oh! This is really interesting!"

"Are you going to tell me, or do I have to come over and beat it out of you?"

"Ouch" Hayley laughed. "He really did get you worked up, didn't he?"

"He didn't get me worked up," Kate protested, her voice rising. "And what is so interesting?"

"Well, it seems as if seven years ago—drumroll please…."

"Hayley," Kate whined. "Quit torturing me!" _I have no idea what Hayley has found, but it must be bad if she's dragging it out like this_.

"He was nominated for the Nobel Prize in Physics," Hayley said with a mischievous grin.

"He what?"

"Was nominated for the Nobel Prize. In fact, he was on the short list."

"So, a real physicist, not just your garden variety college professor."

"So it would seem, and it says here that he's also the director of the Orion Institute for Advanced Technology. Maybe that's where the connection to the Bureau comes in? So how does he rate on the Kate Beckett three-ass scale?"

"The three-ass scale?" _I think I know where Hayley is going with this and she's got me cornered. There is no escaping. I'm just going to have to ride it out_.

"Yeah, every guy you've met since I've known you, you classify as a smartass, a jackass, or a dumbass—right before you kick them to the curb. How would you classify Professor Castle?"

Kate grimaced and fidgeted in her chair. _The pain will probably be over sooner if I just play along._ "Well, since he's almost a Nobel Laureate, I guess we can rule out dumbass, and he was actually pretty nice in spite of the fact that I went off on him this morning for no good reason, so I guess we can rule out jackass."

"So that only leaves smartass," Hayley interjected.

"He did kind of make a joke on the way out," Kate admitted. "But not in an overtly smartass way."

"Wow." If anything, Hayley's grin got wider. "You're going to have to work with a guy that you can't fit into your classification scheme. This is going to be better than chocolate.

Kate rolled her eyes. _There is no way any man could be better than chocolate._ "What other startling revelations are you finding?"

"Well, let's see." Hayley's slender fingers moved purposefully across the keyboard, tapping away as she coaxed out the information her friend needed. "He has a PhD in Physics from Cal Tech. I guess that's not really a revelation. Whoa, but this is! Has another PhD in biochemistry."

"Soooo, not a dumbass," Kate admitted with a huff.

Hayley suddenly stopped typing and straightened in her chair, staring intently at her monitor. "I think this qualifies as startling, but it's more of an un-revelation. Here, take a look," she said as she swiveled her monitor around.

Kate stared at it for a few seconds before speaking. "I don't see anything"

"Precisely. Professor Castle has a big chunk his life missing. before 2001; it's like he didn't exist.


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks for all the reviews. I sincerely appreciate the time and effort._

 _Now let's forget about Season 8 and find out a bit more of Rick and Kate._

e###

Rick left the FBI building and, a couple of turns later, was on Memorial Highway heading south at a pace that was positively sedate for a Ferrari, but guaranteed to attract unwelcome attention from any local law enforcement that happened to be around. The exit ramp for Interstate Four quickly appeared ahead, and he offered up a quick prayer of thanks that the ramp was empty; his right foot flexed ever so slightly, calling for another twenty-five miles per hour as he hit the ramp, and he laughed when he saw the sign proclaiming that the ramp speed limit was twenty-five. He picked his lane as the car responded to his miniscule input like a thoroughbred to the whip and the two-hundred seventy-degree turn went by in less than the blink of an eye.

The prancing horse roared off the ramp, streaked past a plodding Hyundai Sonata and disappeared down the interstate. Rick let out a Comanche war whoop into the slipstream. "Damn, that was fun!" Sobriety and responsibility seemed to return now that he had it out of his system, and he slowed to a more politically correct speed.

"Wait a minute," he muttered. "What exactly did I need to get out of my system?" It only took a few seconds of reflection for him to reach a conclusion. It was her! He slowed down even further, allowing him to transfer some brain cells from driving to thinking about the woman. "She got to me," he marveled aloud. "It's been a while since that happened."

Then it hit him, when it had happened last, and with whom. Kyra Blaine. Oh, God, Kyra! Pain ripped through his heart like a jagged hunting knife as the date he constantly repressed came to mind: September 11, 2001. The day his world ended. His vision blurred and he barely managed to steer the Ferrari off the road undamaged before a tsunami of grief and rage swamped him. He buried his face in hands that shook on the wheel.

That horrible day happened two months after he was wounded at Bandar Deylam, and he had still been recovering. He was spending a few weeks with his sister in New Jersey, and Kyra had surprised him and flown in from California (where she was an analyst in Naval Intelligence) to tell him she was pregnant. He remembered how happy they both had been as they talked about the future, how they made plans, writing metaphysical checks that they would never cash, because the next morning she had boarded her flight back to San Francisco, United Airlines Flight Ninety-Three.

Then, just three days later, he'd struggled through a fog of anguish to travel to the memorial service for his Kyra and the other victims of the terrorist attack. He'd been violently accosted by a Military Police tactical team and hauled out of the terminal at JFK in handcuffs and leg irons, deposited in a maximum-security cell in the brig at the Washington Navy yard, and thrust before a court-martial panel that was so blatantly rigged, that even the panel members seemed embarrassed.

Deep, bone-shaking shudders racked his body as he relived the loss of everything; fiancé, unborn child and career. The ravening depression and soul sucking despair that had almost destroyed him all those years ago came snarling out of the darkness to claim him again.

 _Damn her_. _Damn that snippy FBI puke for making me think about Kyra, for reminding me what it is like to feel…to lose everything but honor. Bandar Deylam….it all started with the battle – actually massacre- at Bandar Deylam._ "


	4. Chapter 4

**_Bandar Deylam, Iran July 21, 2001_**

"The hovercraft should be launching now, sir," the young lieutenant blurted with barely suppressed excitement. After all, it was her first combat mission.

"I'm aware of the mission timeline, Lieutenant," the captain remarked dryly.

"Sorry, sir."

"No problem, Lieutenant. It's my fault for not keeping you busy enough to dispel the butterflies." Captain Castle barked abruptly, "Co-pilot's aircraft!"

"Co-pilot's aircraft, aye, sir," the lieutenant responded crisply as her hands and feet moved to the controls so quickly and precisely that the transition was seamless.

Captain Rick Castle grunted in satisfaction. "Maintain our flight profile as briefed, Tori." He allowed a brief hint of familiarity in his order; it was his way of telling her how pleased he was with her flying skill.

"Maintain profile, aye, sir."

###

Captain Castle took the opportunity to glance out to sea, spotting the ten hovercraft that had ghosted in overnight from fifty miles out. These hovercraft were LCACs, assault hovercraft designed to get troops ashore quickly, before the enemy could react. "Here they come," he informed his co-pilot as the hovercraft pilots firewalled their throttles and began a run on the nondescript Iranian port of Bandar Deylam, barely eight kilometers away.

"Captain?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Do you really think there are nukes there?"

"Colonel Bracken didn't share his intelligence data with me," he growled, "and he certainly didn't offer me a cold Sam Adams while I critiqued his operational plan."

Captain Castle despised Colonel Bracken as one of the ass-kissing, moronic cronies of the current administration who had somehow infested the upper echelons of the Corps over the previous five years. Hell, everyone—including Tori—knew his feelings.

How could they not? They had seen the same feelings on the faces of every one of the company commanders as they left the mission brief three nights ago. They looked the way the Japanese kamikaze pilots must have looked as they took off to confront the U.S. Fleet. Not so much frightened as...resigned.

"What would you have said, Captain Castle?" Tori asked.

The captain seemed puzzled by her question. "What do you mean?"

"You know...If Colonel Bracken had asked you to critique his plan?"

"I would have said it's too complicated, too dependent on achieving total surprise, and too dependent on the Iranians acting the way we want them to, instead of reacting in what they perceive to be their own best interests. In addition, there's too little support, no reserves, and no Plan B. If everything goes precisely per plan it could work, but there's zero margin, and if anything falls apart, this operation will make Little Bighorn look like a food fight at a nursing home. Look, Lieutenant, if the intelligence is correct and the Iranians really are in the process of installing nukes in range for a first strike at Israel, then securing those warheads is critical—too critical to screw up."

"How would you have planned it, sir?"

"I would have waited until the ship carrying the warheads crossed into international waters and then called down the wrath of God.

"

"I'll remember that, sir," she promised. "One other question, if I may, sir?"

"Of course, Lieutenant"

"Well, I mean... ummm," she hesitated.

"Spit it out, Lieutenant."

"Sir, why are we out here hanging around doing nothing? I mean, I thought we were supposed to be evaluating the tactical validity of the heavy support MV-22HS variant. I mean here we are in the only prototype, but Colonel Bracken refused to issue us any ordinance. How can we evaluate 'tactical validity' without ordinance? Or even worse, if the excrement hits the fan ashore, what are we supposed to do, fix bayonets?"

Captain Castle chuckled with little humor. "You're getting almost as good at sarcastic metaphor as I am, Lieutenant. I must be corrupting you." He reached for a switch on the panel next to his left elbow and flicked it down casually. The multi-function plasma display to the right of the lieutenant's main screen changed, in a blink, from navigation mode to what an objective observer would insist was a weapons control mode.

"Sir? What—you didn't—?"

He forced himself to keep nonchalantly observing the LCACs as the assault hovercraft thundered past a thousand feet below the loitering Osprey, but inside tension was building and he could feel the muscle twitch along his jaw line.

His co-pilot's voice climbed from her normal contralto to high soprano, a piercing high soprano. "You did, didn't you?" She sucked in a deep breath. "We're packin' aren't we?"

The captain turned in his seat, and faced her squarely, "Lieutenant," he declared, chest burning with conviction, "the day may come when a Castle goes into a fight with nothing more than mean thoughts, but it won't be today, and it won't be this Castle. Chief Marley agreed with me that it was a crime against nature to send his baby out unarmed. It's also why I insisted that I do the preflight checks myself; I didn't want you to get tarred with this brush if the powers that be decide not to forgive us for doing our job."

Lieutenant Ellis, looking somewhat chastened, turned back to her display and quickly scrolled down, using the thumb-operated joystick on top of the aircraft's control stick. "We're carrying a full combat load-out, sir," she marveled.

"Correct, Lieutenant. Four Mavericks, four Stingers, and 2000 rounds of 25 mike-mike for the Bushmaster. If I decide to think mean thoughts, we're going to do it with style." The time on his display showed less than five minutes to drop ramps. "Lieutenant, come right to heading 090 and follow the LCACs in," he instructed. "Maintain a separation of 2 klicks from the last LCAC."


	5. Chapter 5

**Reviews are awesome. Thanks so much.**

 **Big KaHuna - The Orion Institute technically is part of the University of South Florida Rick is just the messenger.**

 **KB4RC - Kyra's plane was the one that crashed in Pennsylvania after the passengers tried to take it back. Rick's arrest had nothing to do with the crash.**

 **Now for Bandar Deylam Part 2**

###

"Aye, sir." Lieutenant Ellis responded with her usual crisp efficiency. Indeed, she executed the maneuver perfectly, earning a grunt of approval from the captain. She swallowed convulsively as the acrid bite of bile scorched her throat. _How can the Captain seem so calm? Disobeying a direct order from a full colonel is no small_ _thing,_ _especially this one. Colonel Bracken is a vindictive, mean-spirited, sadistic little slime ball and the best thing that can happen is that the Captain gets kicked out of the Corps. The worst thing? Uggh - I don't even want to think about that_.

About 3000 meters ahead were the two east-west jetties she remembered from the satellite pictures Captain Castle had used during her mission briefing. The jetties, which each appeared to be about 1000 meters long and 10 meters wide, were separated by about 100 meters of channel that provided shipping access to the inner harbor. The channel itself had obviously been cut through a low barrier island, actually not much more than a sand bar. The sand bar stretched north and south as far as she could see and then disappeared into the shimmering heat haze already starting to build.

At the far end of one channel, among a litter of small vessels, sat five larger ships. The largest had a leprous-looking gray hull and a black pilothouse with a much-faded portrait of the Ayatollah Khomeini on its side.

Tori swallowed somewhat more forcefully than usual. There was the objective of the mission, the _Benevolent Khomeini_ , which, per intel, was carrying six 150-kiloton SCUD warheads destined for Israel.

The Ops plan called for the first three hovercraft in line to head directly to the target and disembark Captain Palacio's Able Company to secure the ship, link up with the seal team who had come ashore last night to locate the warheads, and transfer them aboard the LCACs. These three hovercraft would then re-embark Able Company and the seal team and head out to sea to rendezvous with U.S.S Wasp waiting just over the horizon.

The next three hovercraft would turn south, disembarking Captain Orville Burdick's Bravo Company to secure the southern flank of the assault. The next three would land Captain Javier Esposito's Charlie Company to the north, so they could control the causeway to the town itself and block any intrusion from the ramshackle warehouse district that fronted the quay.

The final LCAC carried the tactical headquarters of the Sea Dragon Battalion, including its commanding officer, Colonel William Bracken, call sign Dragon-6. It also carried the slimmed-down heavy weapons detachment that had been assigned to the mission.

Looking ahead, Lieutenant Ellis watched intently as the Able Company LCACs slammed to a halt on either side and at the stern of the _Khomeini_. The LCAC's inflated skirts partially cushioned the impact, and the pilots used their maneuvering thrusters to hold the hovercraft in place against the hull of the larger vessel. Marines quickly clambered over the gunwales and spread out to their assigned tasks.

The lieutenant swept her gaze to the right and saw the Bravo Company hovercraft approach the quay and maneuver to land in the gaps between the moored fishing boats. To the north, she could barely see Charlie Company scrambling over the sea wall and moving swiftly toward its assigned positions.

Captain Castle switched their radio to a different frequency, "What are doing, sir?"

I'm switching to the Able Company net, I'm sure we'll get a better play-by-play from Captain Esposito."

Tori's heart rate was climbing fast as an adrenalin surge of tsunami proportions raced through her body. _Focus girl, focus_ she admonished herself as her mind wrapped itself around what she was hearing. She recognized the voice of Major Henry Harrison, executive officer of the Sea Dragon battalion.

"Captain Palacio, have you sent a squad to find out what those disgusting things are?"

Another voice, this one unfamiliar, but undoubtedly Captain Palacio, the CO of Able company. "Sir, I uh..." violent retching sounds continued for several seconds.

Major Harrison chided his company commander "Palacio, get a hold of yourself! Just tell me what are those things hanging from that boom over the foredeck of your freighter, we'll have to use that boom to transfer the warheads."

"Sir, it's the bodies of the SEALs that came ashore last night. They appear to have been burned alive."

###

Captain Castle's command voice cut through the chaos like a finely-honed blade. "Pilot's airplane!" He reefed the aircraft into a climbing turn to port, advancing the rotor control to full forward and pushing the throttle to 75 percent.

The turn quickly cleared the line of sight so he and Lieutenant Ellis had an unimpeded view of the attack as it unfolded, barely two klicks away. There a pitched battle raged in front of the target freighter, and for some distance along the quay to either side. Iranian infantry poured out of the buildings fronting the quay, firing like madmen and throwing volleys of grenades as they advanced.

###

Something below the level of conscious thought jerked the lieutenant's gaze to the right just as the Iranian gunners concealed in the fishing boats along the quay rose up and poured a massive volley of rocket-propelled grenades into the hovercraft at point-blank range. All three vessels vanished in a massive fireball as the RPGs' shaped charge warheads found fuel tanks. It was a Pyrrhic victory for the Iranians, though, as the shockwave and fireball crushed or burned every one of their RPG gunners, capsized the smaller vessels along the quay, and rained flaming debris down over a wide radius.

"Dragon-6 to Bravo-6, give me a sitrep." Col. Bracken was calling Bravo Company. Receiving no reply, he called again with a decidedly more strident tone. "Dragon-6 to Bravo-6, give me a sitrep."

Castle glanced meaningfully at Lieutenant Ellis as his thumb pressed down on the transmit button. "Gunslinger to Dragon-6. Bravo Company no longer exists."

Colonel Bracken wasted no time. Both Castle and Ellis watched in disbelief as the hovercraft which was supposed to be landing the heavy weapons platoon on the jetty spun away, unceremoniously dumping a javelin gunner and his loader onto the rocks at the foot of the jetty before heading full speed away from the battle and out to sea.

"That bastard!" Castle snarled. He turned to the lieutenant and said matter-of-factly, "Looks like it's down to the _triarii_ now, Lieutenant."

###

Lieutenant Ellis understood the historical reference and raised a quizzical eyebrow. The _triarii_ were the third line of an army of the Roman Republic when it deployed for battle, the final reserve, only to be employed in the event of disaster. Its purpose was not to secure victory, but to sell their lives as dearly as possible, buying time for the rest of the army to escape or to rally.

"Who are the _triarii_ , sir?"

"We are!" He shifted to the battalion net and spoke forcefully "Gunslinger to all 6's! _Vampire_ , _vampire_ , I say again, _vampire_!" All unit commanders were now aware that surprise had been lost and that the success of the mission was gravely in doubt. Indeed, it was looking less like an assault and more like a fighting withdrawal as every second ticked by.

"Dragon-5 to Gunslinger, who the hell are...Castle is that you? What's your position? What's going on? Where's Dragon-6?" Major Harrison seemed a bit excited, but more or less in control.

The captain pressed transmit. "In order of your questions sir: It's me. I'm in the MV-22 orbiting two klicks off the seaward side of the jetty. The explosions you saw to the south were the LCACs with Bravo Company being destroyed with all hands. Colonel Bracken never landed the heavy weapons platoon and beat feet for the Wasp... sir!"

"Roger, Gunslinger," acknowledged Dragon-5. "We'll have the last warhead loaded in five. Maintain your position and keep your eyes open. We may not have seen the last of their little surprises."


	6. Chapter 6

**Bandar Deylam Part Three - Osprey has talons**

###

Lieutenant Ellis's sharp eyes picked up numerous squat shapes leaving the shelter of the town and advancing rapidly onto the causeway in single file. Any uncertainty as to the arrival of more surprises lasted maybe three seconds.

"Sir, I've got something!"

"Go optical," he commanded, and she complied, her main display showing a TV-like picture that shifted dizzyingly as Lieutenant Ellis zoomed in to magnify the lead vehicle. She needed only half a heartbeat to evaluate what she saw on her monitor.

The silhouette was unmistakable, the flat, pancake-shaped turret and improbably long gun barrel denoting UralVagonZavod Scientific Industrial Corporation's pride and joy, a Russian T90 main battle tank. A very bad boy, indeed, and a migraine erupted as Tori quickly counted nine more of them placed strategically among the remaining vehicles of the column. As far as those other vehicles were concerned, no speculation was necessary, given their distinctive appearance. They were BMP-3 infantry fighting vehicles, fast, tough, and armed to the incisors. The two pilots exchanged grim looks of understanding, no words necessary. If even one of those T-90s reached firing position, the Sea Dragon battalion was well and truly fucked.

###

Captain Castle pressed his transmit switch. "Dragon-5, this is Gunslinger. You've got hostile armor heading your way from the northeast. I count ten, repeat one-zero, Tango Niner Zero and thirty-four, repeat three-four Bravo Mike Papa dash three. Column is just now rolling on to the causeway. Speed of advance is fifteen, repeat one-five klicks per hour."

As Major Harrison acknowledged the information and begin to issue orders to disengage and withdraw his mangled command, Captain Castle turned to his copilot. "Swap out your flight helmet for the gunner's helmet and get ready to prove that your gunnery scores in training weren't a fluke. It looks like the guys on the ground are going to need a little air support."

###

Lieutenant Ellis nimbly disconnected her flight helmet and attached it to its normal storage location beside her seat. She reached back over her shoulder and stretched to get a grasp on the gunner's helmet, giving it a smart tug to release from its storage clip.

She donned the helmet and took a half second to adjust to the unfamiliar feel. The gunner's helmet was a bit bulkier and heavier than a standard flight helmet, since it incorporated a heads-up display and kinematic interfaces that allowed the gunner to control all of the Osprey's weapons systems by head position, facial expressions, and a minimum of hand movements. She got the helmet adjusted, connected, and powered up. An automatic system check completed itself, showing green icons on all systems.

"Weapons hot, sir! Will you be designating targets?"

"Lieutenant, that's a mechanized battalion with an attached tank company, and we only have four shots that Rick even scratch their paint, so we have to be smart. Do you see this area here?" The captain placed a blinking cursor on a section of the causeway, using his joystick to control her display.

She nodded, and he continued. "That's a bridge span, not solid fill like the rest of the causeway. If you can nail the lead tank near the center of the span, the second tank in line Rick have no choice but to try to push it off. And since the sides of the bridge appear to be reinforced concrete, they can't just push it over the edge, but will have to push straight down the bridge to the end. If you can take out the entire lead group, three dead tanks tangled on the bridge should slow them down enough to give the LCACs a head start toward open water."

He banked the Osprey into a port turn, not needing to close the range since the Mavericks outranged anything else in the area. He wanted to give the armored column time to reach the bridge span and start across. The MV-22 completed its turn, the nose once again pointed toward the harbor and the enemy tanks.

"You may fire when ready, Gridley," Captain Castle quipped calmly.

###

Lieutenant Ellis gave the pilot her patented eyebrow lift. "Really, sir... Admiral Dewey...Manila Bay?" _He really is a geek at heart_. _Hell, if I weren't a history buff myself, I wouldn't know what he's talking about half the time_."

And then she returned her focus to her calculations: vectors, angles, acceleration curves, time and distance dancing through her subconscious. Suddenly she knew. Now or never. A carefully orchestrated series of eye movements locked the missile's seeker on the lead tank and fired. "On the way, sir," she announced as the missile streaked away, accelerating rapidly. She felt the rotary launcher cycle as a new missile flashed green readiness in her display.

###

Captain Javier Esposito looked to the northeast and saw disaster. Charlie Company was fighting for its life against the Iranian infantry and slowly losing ground, gradually being forced back towards the LCACs. Disaster didn't begin to describe what he saw approaching. "Tanks! Where the hell did they get tanks?" His experienced and highly trained mind had already made the correct assessment, that within the next sixty seconds the approaching tanks would be able to take his LCACs under fire, and when that happened he and the rest of Charlie Company were dead.

He felt numb; a ball of cold lead seemed to settle in the pit of his stomach. This was flat-out insane. Since when had Marines gone into battle with no support whatsoever? "No air, no naval gunfire, no artillery, not evens a fuckin' mortar, for God's sake."

Esposito studied the men in front of him and realized that their morale was draining away as hope faded, and he knew with sick certainty that they weren't going to make it out of— _KRRRAAAACKK_! The surviving Marines instinctively jerked their gaze to the left as a white-painted missile screamed by not fifty feet away. The cone-shaped halo of compressed vapor clinging to its flanks indicating that it had just gone supersonic. Captain Esposito followed its flight as the missile covered the remaining distance to the hulking mechanical killer at the head of the enemy column and fell upon the T-90 like the fist of an angry war god.

The 27-ton turret rocketed skyward in a burst of flame as the warhead detonated on the turret ring. The turret spun lazily back to earth, and a pillar of fire blazed skyward from the hull as ammunition ignited and burned with plasma-like intensity. The second tank in line crunched into the wreckage, unable to stop in time, just as Tori Ellis's second Maverick surgically removed its turret as well.

Captain Esposito turned his gaze to the twin smoke trails, tracing them back to their source. He half expected to see a squadron of F-18 Hornets swooping in like fiery chariots; but all he saw was a single MV-22 Osprey orbiting offshore. His rational mind refused to accept the obvious conclusion. Ospreys don't carry missiles. Then he remembered, Rick Castle was here testing an armed version of the MV-22, but that bastard colonel had refused them permission to carry ordinance for this mission.

It looked like his old friend Rick was up to his usual trick of asking for forgiveness instead of permission, and he had perhaps—just perhaps—given Javier Esposito the opening he needed to get his men out alive. He quickly sent runners to his platoon leaders with the message: "When I fire a red star cluster, give me maximum rate of fire for thirty seconds and head for the LCACs. Remember, we don't get a bonus if we bring ammo back, so use it!"

They were locked and loaded when Javier heard from Major Harrison. "The nukes are loaded, Captain, and we are pulling out. Tuck in right behind us and follow us out."

"We're right behind you, sir."

"Good Luck, Captain. Dragon-5 out."

"You too, sir! Charlie-6 out." Esposito extended his left hand upward, and fired the star cluster. Trailing sparks, it burst overhead like a fourth of July firework, and every surviving Marine opened up on the opposing infantry, firing long, searing bursts that swept the quay, tumbling Iranian infantry into ragged piles of bloody, sand-colored uniforms.

But then it was over, ammunition exhausted, gun barrels red hot, searing flesh at any accidental contact. Marines sprinted desperately for the hovercraft as Esposito and his headquarters detachment followed, backing away, their faces to the enemy, contesting every foot as the Iranian assault gathered itself and stumbled forward, sensing the kill.

Somehow, he remained unhurt as the last of his company tumbled across the landing ramp, and he stepped across just as the pilot gunned his engines and the vessel surged backward. He looked back toward the causeway, desperate to determine whether the Osprey's missiles had bought them enough time. The third tank had managed to stop before becoming entangled in the wreckage of its companions, and its main gun elevated as its turret slewed to the left. Esposito's heart rate pegged out momentarily, but he realized the tank was not engaging his hovercraft; it was preparing to engage the Osprey!


	7. Chapter 7

**Bander Deylam - Part three**

###

Captain Castle brought the Osprey back around to give the third T-90 time to close up at the center of the bridge. As they came out of the turn, a red star cluster blossomed above the quay and the Marines scrambled for the seeming security of the LCACs.

 _Scree, scree, scree_ , the high-pitched, strident sound hit their eardrums like the sound of a thousand fingernails being dragged over the world's most resonant chalkboard. If the raucous sound were not enough to demand the attention of Captain Castle and Lieutenant Ellis, then the arterial-red icon pulsing in the upper right quadrant of each pilot's main display would undoubtedly have closed the deal. The hunter had just become the hunted. Her third target momentarily forgotten, Lieutenant Ellis's fingers flashed from control to control refining her data, and the answer appeared on her display: REFLEKS.

"Refleks Laser designator just locked us up, sir," she reported with an apparent coolness that didn't fool the captain. His adrenalin level was soaring and hers had to be right behind.

Captain Castle responded almost instantly. "The tank, Tori! Nail the tank!" The Refleks system was only mounted on one vehicle, the T90 main battle tank. It allowed the T-90 to engage other tanks, helicopters, and other low-flying, relatively slow-moving aircraft with a beam-riding missile launched through the tank's main gun tube. The only thing matching any of those descriptions in the area was one little MV-22 Osprey carrying his own precious ass and the lieutenant's extremely cute one.

There was no chance to outrun the missile, and they were well within its range. The Osprey carried defensive systems to counter radar-guided and heat-seeking missiles, but it apparently had never occurred to anyone that it would ever be targeted by a laser guided anti-tank missile. The only hope for the Osprey was to turn the trick on the hunter and kill it before it launched its missile. Captain Castle wrenched the Osprey's nose around to point directly at the tank, simplifying Lieutenant Ellis's firing solution. A third Maverick leapt ahead on a brilliant trail of flame.

The T-90 fired, an initial puff of smoke as the missile left the gun tube, followed almost immediately by a much larger billow of smoke as the rocket motor ignited and it streaked away to the west. The two missiles passed each other close aboard, and for a half-second the observers on the hovercraft and on shore thought they might collide and annihilate each other. But no, they raced past; mindlessly intent on the targets their human masters had given them.

Rick Castle knew that he and Lieutenant Ellis had only one advantage left: the Maverick was considerably faster than the beam rider. If it arrived soon enough and its impact broke the telemetry link between tank and missile, the missile should lose lock and go harmlessly ballistic. He watched intently as the Maverick struck, obliterating the T-90. His gaze switched to the missile growing rapidly as it closed in on them.

 _Damn, it'sstill heading in_. _Who are these guys? Even a Russian Guards Tank division doesn't have stuff this advanced_! He didn't know which of the Osprey's defensive systems might work, so he triggered them all. Chaff bloomed behind the Osprey, streamers of aluminized Mylar creating a false radar image. Flares, bright as the sun, erupted to either side, seeking to confuse anything homing on the heat signature of the Osprey.

Unfortunately, the missile streaking toward them was neither a heat seeker, nor radar-guided, but rather was equipped with the latest Russian technology, image recognition. During the short time that the missile had operated on laser guidance before the launching tank was destroyed, it had memorized the image of the Osprey. Now, like a cyborgian cheetah, it was speeding remorselessly toward its intended victim, racing to complete its mission and blow the annoying little trash-hauler pretending to be a warplane into aluminum dust bunnies.

###

Napoleon once said that in war "a man is everything," and so it proved. Tori Ellis knew that at this moment she was simply a passenger. Her young life with its manifold promise rested entirely on the courage and skill of one man. Time seemed to slow to some geologic pace as she saw the ice-cold eyes of the young captain lock onto the missile, calculate the odds—probably to five decimal places—and in one motion rotate the engine pods to full vertical and feather the rotors.

As an aircraft, the MV-22 Osprey can fulfill many different tasks. One thing it most decidedly is not, however, is a glider. When Rick Castle feathered the rotors, the Osprey dropped like Newton's apple, straight for the waters of the Persian Gulf 800 feet below.

Tori Ellis couldn't suppress a shriek as her time sense slammed back to real-time and she fought to keep the French toast she'd had for breakfast that morning from coming up as fast as the rest of her was falling.

The unknown designers of the Refleks missile had created the perfect killing machine. Except for one small thing; it was designed to engage either ground vehicles or very low-flying aircraft. They had never anticipated that a doomed target might try to evade by diving under it. As the image of its prey dropped from its electronic sight, the missile naturally tried to nose down to follow. However, Rick Castle's insane maneuver would have required that the Refleks execute a minimum of a negative eight-G dive to hit the plummeting Osprey, and it was only capable of a woefully inadequate minus six G's.

Lieutenant Ellis would swear to the day that she drew her last breath that she could distinguish the Cyrillic lettering stenciled on the missile body as the flaming rocket passed between the upright engine pods, through the arc of the wind-milling rotors, and disappeared aft to explode harmlessly in the distance.

###

Captain Castle reacted instantly, setting the props to maximum pitch and forcefully advancing the throttles past the stops to full emergency power. The big General Electric turbines howled their challenge as they fought to arrest the precipitous plunge of the Osprey, which was still accelerating toward the sea as gravity exerted its dominance. The Marines on the LCACs watched in horror as the aircraft, which had saved them all, met the sea in a towering explosion of spray.

Captain and Lieutenant, both hyperventilating and too stunned to speak, exchanged a glance that screamed- _we're alive!_ His gaze jerked forward to check their status. The altitude readout showed zero. They were hovering right on the surface or floating, more likely a combination of the two. Captain Castle snapped back into pilot mode as his heart rate slowed to the point where individual beats were distinguishable. The engines were still firewalled, but the aircraft was not gaining altitude.

He realized that the spray being kicked up by the rotors was being pulled into the engines, cooling them and reducing the power output. This couldn't go on for very long; he had to get out of the spray. Tilting the rotors forward a few degrees caused the Osprey to begin gathering speed as it skated across the surface.

There was a collective intake of breath from the watching Marines as the Osprey emerged from the spray, gathering speed and beginning to gain altitude. The breath exploded from a hundred throats. "UUURRAAHHH, UUURRAAAHHH!"

Characteristically, it was the lieutenant who spoke first, although a bit breathlessly; "You sure know how to show a girl a good time, sir."

The captain choked, but regained control quickly. "Don't worry, Lieutenant, wait till you see what I have planned for our second date!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry about the weird update, I think I need a tutorial on how to use the site.**

 **Anyway, back to Bandar Deylam - Help from on high**

The first of the retreating LCACs was now entering the channel between the two jetties and starting to pick up speed as it headed for open water. The others followed in single file at intervals of approximately one hundred meters.

###

Major Harrison and the battalion command team were on the third craft in line, with two of the nukes in each of the first three. Then came the three hovercraft containing the remnants of Charlie Company, with Captain Esposito and his headquarters detachment in the last vehicle.

Major Harrison stood in the pilothouse of the assault hovercraft, watching the two vessels ahead negotiate the channel. The Naval petty officer who was piloting the hovercraft gave him a surreptitious glance, making the major aware that his officer's face was slipping as grief, rage and fear fought for control within his mind. _What the hell just happened? They were waiting for us…They had first-flight Russian weapons that no one suspected they had…we lost half the battalion…I'm going to shoot that bastard Bracken for bugging out and leaving us…and_ — "What the Hell?"

Harrison lunged to the open hatch, which led to the main deck, stumbling slightly as he burst through. His focus was entirely on what he saw happening on the jetty to port. Iranian infantry had materialized among the debris at the landward end. As they flung debris to the side with frantic haste, their purpose was soon revealed. Two slender gun barrels rotated toward Harrison's LCAC and opened fire.

BAMBAMBAMBAM…the twin stream of tracers, like gruesomely glowing grapefruits, walked across the main deck, killing Dragon-5 and turning the hovercraft's engines and control surfaces into scrap metal. When the engines blew apart, the hovercraft lost inflation on its skirt and it crashed helplessly into the sea in a burst of spray.

###

Captain Esposito, unaware that he was now the senior surviving officer of the battalion, boosted himself to the top of the pilothouse of hovercraft number six, and fumbled briefly with his binoculars as he strained to see what was happening at the head of the line. At first he thought it was a gun emplacement at the end of the jetty, but when he finally got his binoculars focused, he quickly recognized that he was looking at the turret of an armored vehicle dug in to what had appeared to be a pile of construction debris. He fiddled a little more with the focus of his binoculars. Shit, it was a ZSU-57, a tracked vehicle with twin 57 mm anti-aircraft guns.

"Can it possibly get any worse?" he asked the universe, but instantly regretted the question as gunnery sergeant Fernandez popped his head up past the edge of the pilot house and blurted "Sir, there's another one, over at the north jetty." The captain pivoted to the right, quickly focusing on the activity at the end of the northern jetty. A second ZSU-57 was almost uncovered; it would be ready to fire within seconds.

###

On hovercraft number four, which carried 2nd Platoon, Lieutenant Tab Masterson recognized the threat and screamed, "Action right, engage at will!" The platoon had not been idle in the time elapsed since they pulled away from the waterfront. They had regained their equilibrium, and re-ammunitioned, and their platoon leader's command was met with alacrity. The starboard side of hovercraft number four erupted in a sheet of flame as the squad's automatic weapons, grenade launchers and carbines opened a withering fire.

The Iranian infantry, scarcely seventy-five yards away, was swept away by the storm of fire. One grenade—by a great stroke of luck (or perhaps by intent, but no one would ever know for sure)—passed through the opening of the left gun barrel and detonated inside the turret, killing the vehicle commander and wounding the other two crew members.

###

Captain Esposito now realized he was the acting commander of the Sea Dragon battalion, and that it was time to put the rifle down and be a commander, as the saying goes. Motioning emphatically for his radioman, which he was most happy to see still alive, Esposito began issuing the orders that would salvage as much as possible from this total cluster.

To the first two LCACs in line, each carrying two of the Iranian nukes, which were just clearing the seaward end of the jetties, he sent the order: "Get the hell outta here and head for the Wasp at best possible speed."

To the third hovercraft in line, now dead in the water and horribly mangled by the Iranian ZSU: "Stand by to receive tow."

To the fourth LCAC: "Take number three under tow and head for Wasp at best speed."

Finally, he switched to the Osprey's channel. "Gunslinger this is Charlie-6, you still with us, buddy?"

The answer came back instantly "Charlie-6 this is Gunslinger. We're still here, sort of."

Captain Esposito was a bit startled to hear "Gunslinger" answer in a clearly female voice.

"Gunslinger your voice has gone up a few octaves since your little adventure. Sure hope it doesn't get stuck there!"

"Charlie-6, this is Lieutenant Ellis, the co-pilot. Captain Castle is working with our port engine control system; it's running little rough and not responding properly. Captain says to tell you that the Iranian armor on the causeway seems to be pulling back into the town. It looks like they 're going to bring forward a crane to clear the wreckage. Captain also says his Spidey senses are tingling. The armor is giving up too easily; they've got to have some other way to stop the hover craft."

"All right, Gunslinger, keep your eyes open for the next shoe. We should be clearing the coast in another five minutes or so. By the way, Lieutenant, that was a damned fine piece of work. I thought we were dead meat until that Maverick of yours almost parted my hair. You saved our ass. Charlie-6 over and out."

###

Lieutenant Ellis shifted her optical sight to keep an eye on the effort to rig a towline to hovercraft three. Part of the Northern jetty was also in her field of view. Two figures were clambering on to the jetty, dragging some equipment with them. Her breath caught as she quickly zoomed in on the two figures. Her heart rate slowed marginally; they were Marines and the equipment was a Javelin missile launcher. They had to be the Javelin team that had been abandoned by Colonel Bracken when his hovercraft fled.

The two figures suddenly pointed to the southeast across the channel and hurriedly began to assemble their launcher. She scrolled quickly in the direction the two figures were pointing till she reached the pile of debris at the end of the south jetty.

The ZSU-57 that had ravaged hovercraft three had apparently been playing dead, because it suddenly opened fire again. This time it poured a long burst into hovercraft number five, which erupted into a fireball. Then it shifted fire to hovercraft six and both engines exploded.

Stunned by the destruction of hovercraft five, the lieutenant tried to inform Captain Castle, but the sudden shock turned her intended report into a tangled mess of words that came out simply as an anguished "NOOO!" Coherent or not, it served its purpose, and Captain Castle turned from his repair efforts in time to witness the destruction of hovercraft five and recognize the situation confronting hovercraft six.

"Pilot's aircraft. Use your last Maverick, Tori," he snapped, "and nail that bastard!"

"Wha…?" Tori seemed to be having trouble communicating in complete thoughts as a back-blast signature erupted on the north jetty and a missile streaked across the channel to take out the ZSU before it could fire again. The Javelin team had just made their presence felt.

###

Captain Castle thumbed the transmit stud on his control stick. "Gunslinger to Charlie-6."

An unfamiliar voice answered. "Gunslinger, this is Gunny Fernandez. Captain Esposito is unconscious and the other officers are all dead."

"Roger, gunny, how many of your platoon are still alive?

"Gunslinger, I think eleven still mostly conscious and seven or eight that are unconscious," his voice rose an octave or so. "That thing shot the ever-loving shit out of us, sir." The gunny's voice faded for a moment, and then he continued. "Looks like we're done for, sir. The other hovercraft are gone, and I don't think the Iranians are in the mood to take prisoners."

Captain Castle turned and met Lieutenant Ellis's brown eyes. Considering everything the young woman had already faced that day, he felt a bit guilty about ordering her to do something as incredibly dangerous as what they needed to do next.

The apology was, in any event, unnecessary. As he cleared his throat to speak, the lieutenant interrupted gently. "We're going in to get them, aren't we, sir?" Her tone was quietly confident and determined, the tone of a veteran.

Captain Castle nodded and pressed the transmit button again. "This is Gunslinger, Gunny. We're coming in to extract you."

"Gunslinger, you can't do that, it's too dangerous." Fernandez protested.

"Gunny, I don't believe that I gave you the choice of refusing extraction! Get your guys lined up ready to go, _now_. We have to do this quick before they unwrap another of their little surprises."

"AYE, AYE, sir! "

Captain Castle turned the Osprey toward the disabled hovercraft and began to descend. "Tori, find a likely target for your last Maverick. I want you to launch, and then we'll follow it in. Hopefully they'll be paying more attention to the missile than to us."

###

Lieutenant Ellis quickly scanned the area for a likely target. Then she highlighted the target and addressed the pilot. "How about this vehicle, sir? It's the only one still out in the open."

"Perfect," he agreed, "a BMP with four long antennae, probably the commander of that mech battalion, maybe even the commander of the whole force. Launch at 1000 meters from the seaward end of the jetty."

"Party in fifteen," the Lieutenant stated matter-of-factly, then took a deep breath, which she held for several seconds. "Ten seconds…nine…eight…seven… six…five…four…three…two…one…missile away!"

###

Captain Castle didn't bother to track the missile, but instead focused on the hovercraft ahead. Oily black smoke was starting to billow thickly from aft near the engine compartment. Fortunately, Gunny Fernandez had his guys mustered on the foredeck, which also happened to be the part closest to the Osprey as it approached.

The wounded were all wrapped in blankets and strapped securely to stretchers, ready to transfer. Those who were able assumed a semicircle around the wounded, weapons ready, facing outward, scanning the jetty for any further surprises. It certainly appeared that the gunny was no stranger to combat extractions.

"Drop the ramp, Tori," Captain Castle ordered.

She complied immediately, and the tail ramp dropped slowly into position as the noise level in the cockpit increased substantially and the cockpit was flooded with the acrid stench of burning fuel and sickly sweet smell of death. Even the salty tang of the sea seemed burdened with the reek of gunpowder and explosives.

The Osprey was as low as Captain Castle dared to fly, and he held his speed until the last microsecond. It looked to the rest of the world as if he would surely collide with the hovercraft, but he tilted the rotors full back, and the aircraft came to an abrupt hover, barely thirty feet off the bow of the hovercraft. The Osprey slowly rotated until it faced away, and then backed slowly till the edge of the loading ramp contacted the deck. Gunny Fernandez didn't wait for orders, but started his people across, stretcher cases first. In less than two minutes, everyone was aboard and the gunny made his way forward.

###

Tori Ellis was twisted in her seat, watching the Marines come aboard. As the gunny made his way forward, she looked at him questioningly. He gave her a thumb up and then made a wind milling motion with his upward pointing forefinger. Tori pointed to the empty gunner's seat, and the sergeant nodded and dropped into it wearily.


	9. Chapter 9

Tori turned back to the front. "All aboard, sir." The Osprey started to move forward and Tori reached for the lever to raise the ramp.

"Belay that, Lieutenant" the captain interrupted. " Leave it down. We've got one more pickup."

The lieutenant pulled her hand back and looked sharply at the pilot. What was he talking about? Then she remembered. "The javelin team," she exclaimed.

Captain Castle was scanning the northern jetty for the two Marines. "Correct, Lieutenant, they're brave men and deserve better than…Ah, there they are."

He eased forward on the throttles, and the Osprey closed the gap quickly before coming to a hover and repeating the maneuver that had worked so well at the hovercraft. The intrepid javelin gunners leaped the gap, and Tori once more reached for the ramp control. This time the captain merely nodded and she yanked it back. The Osprey picked up speed immediately as the ramp clunked home and locked. Captain Castle climbed to five hundred feet, completed the transition to horizontal flight, and the Osprey streaked for the horizon.

Gunny Fernandez broke the silence. "Thanks for coming back for us, sir."

"No problem," the captain replied. "You would have done the same for us."

"I can't believe any of us made it out of that," the lieutenant said as she removed the heavy helmet and rubbed her neck and shoulders.

"It's a little too early to assume that any of us will make it out." The bitterness in the captain's voice was evident to his two listeners.

"What?" They responded in unison.

"Think about it, you two! That was a very well planned and elaborate trap. The mission was supposed to fail disastrously. They had to have someone on our side of the table feeding them intel. Any survivors would have possibly compromised the cover of the traitor; ergo, they knew they could still bag the lot of us, even if some managed to fight their way out of the harbor."

The sergeant looked like he was in shock as he considered the implications, "What could they hit us with now, sir?"

"Well let's see, surface ships, submarines, fighters…"

 _SCREEE, SCREEE, SCREEE!_ The Osprey's threat receiver went manic.

"Or maybe whatever that is," The captain concluded drily.

Tori frantically wrestled her helmet back into place. "Lap Dance," she announced. "What kind of name is that for a weapon system?"

"Damn" the captain grunted.

"What is it sir? She asked.

"Search radar, like the Longbow radar on the Apache."

"Choppers?" Fernandez interjected.

Castle glanced back at the Marine in the gunner's seat. "Not just choppers, Gunny, gunships; specifically, Havocs or Hokums."

"Lieutenant, I'm going to do a quick 360. Give me a thermal scan, and let's see if we can locate these suckers." Captain Castle banked the Osprey to the left and held the turn through a complete circle.

"Got 'em, sir, eight bogeys, bearing two-eight-eight degrees; right on the deck," Lieutenant Ellis announced as she switched to optical and zoomed in on the group of aircraft. The single main rotor and full tail rotor were clearly distinguishable. "Havocs, sir." she stated,

The Mil Mi-28 Havoc was the current first-line helicopter gunship in service with the Russian Army. Fast, maneuverable, heavily armored, and armed to the teeth, it had been exported all over the world and was generally regarded as every bit the equal of the American AH-64 Apache.

Captain Castle was studying the silhouettes on the TV monitor. "They're not after us," he concluded thinking out loud. "They're going after the hovercraft." He glanced at the lieutenant without turning his head more than necessary.

Suddenly she shook her head slightly and straightened in her seat. Glancing around and taking a couple of deep breaths, she spoke without asking for permission, which indicated both her stress level, and the depth of trust that had developed between Lieutenant and Captain over the course of the morning. What had entered this operation as a crew of two had been forged into a unit of one.

"Sir, they can't catch us before we reach Wasp, but they are going to be all over the hovercraft. There's no way even the undamaged ones can escape."

"Raise the nearest LCAC, Tori," the Captain spoke decisively. "Tell them to stop when we close in. We're going to transfer Gunny Fernandez' guys to the hovercraft."

The sergeant leaned forward "Sir?"

"Look, Gunny," Captain Castle began patiently; "the Havocs are carrying full loads of antitank missiles similar to our Hellfire, probably eighteen each. That's more than 100 missiles for the entire flight. One missile will do a hovercraft pretty well, and then if they want to they can go after Wasp. Think of what a hundred Hellfires would do to Wasp with all the fuel and ordnance she carries, and you have a pretty good picture of what these guys could do."

"What are we going to do, sir?"

"We are going to drop you and your troops off at the nearest hovercraft," Castle replied, "and then the Lieutenant and I are going to go play with a squadron of Havocs."

"His glance traveled from captain to lieutenant and back to captain. He nodded briefly, saying, "I'll get my guys ready, then," before he rose and made his way back to the wounded.

"Sir, the bogeys now seem to be heading for the Wasp rather than the hovercraft!" the lieutenant announced, frowning. "Why would they do that?"

"Because if they cripple mama bear, the baby bears are easy meat," the captain responded. "They probably want to recapture the nukes rather than blow them up, and they figure that if they cripple or destroy the Wasp, the LCACs Rick have no choice but to surrender."

The captain could see Lt. Ellis's indignation spill over. "Haven't these idiots ever heard of Frozen Chosin or Khe Sanh? Backing a bunch of Marines into a corner can be a bit unhealthy for those doing the backing!"

"Let's hope they learn the hard way then, Lieutenant." Captain Castle gave a grim chuckle and announced, "One minute to transfer, Gunny"

The Osprey carefully came to a hover over the deck of the LCAC and dropped its ramp. The transfer was completed quickly, and Tori raised the ramp as the Osprey climbed and transitioned to forward flight, then raced to the northeast to place itself between the advancing Havocs and the amphibious assault ship with its totally defenseless LCACs.

The brutal calculus of combat did not leave much doubt as to what would happen. Eight Havocs should go through the Osprey like a chainsaw through rotten pine. Most professional bookmakers would give have given the Osprey about a hundred to one chance of being taken out without inflicting any damage to the enemy whatsoever.

But, if there is any lesson to be learned from human history, it is this: Sometimes the odds just don't matter all that much. Sometimes an unlikely combination of skill, courage, and indomitable will refactors the equations that say "impossible" and something extraordinary emerges.

When a large hand suddenly descended on her left shoulder, the lieutenant shrieked and would have levitated completely out of her seat save for the safety harness. "What the…Fernandez, what are you still here for?"

Captain Castle managed to pull out of the dive that the surprise appearance of Gunny Fernandez (and the accompanying sound effects from the lieutenant) had caused. He glanced angrily at the sergeant, eyes demanding an explanation.

"Sir, you've got two fifties back there that mount to the ramp when it's open. When you mix it up with the Havocs, if you open the ramp just a little, Corporal Peterson and I can maybe keep them off of your six."

Captain Castle felt like slapping himself upside the head. He had completely forgotten the two fifty-caliber machine guns that every Osprey carried. They had special mounts that could be attached to the end of the ramp when it was open. They were intended to provide fire support to troops being inserted or extracted from a hot LZ, but in this case, the extra sting in the tail of the Osprey couldn't hurt and might even save their lives. "Good thinking, Gunny. Looks like you just got promoted to tail gunner. Oh, and by the way? Don't ever sneak up on me like that again."

"Aye, aye, sir." The sergeant smirked and disappeared toward the rear of the aircraft.


	10. Chapter 10

**The battle of Bandar Deylam is over, but the effects are long lasting.**

"Okay, Tori, here's what we're going to do." Captain Castle smiled briefly. "If they stay in one group, we're going right up the middle. I want you to stinger the ones on the far right and the far left. Then switch to guns and try to kill one on the merge. If you can get two, that's even better. Use short bursts and shoot to kill, not just to get hits. The most vulnerable aiming point on these things is the tail rotor; next best would be the engine exhaust."

"Got it, sir," the lieutenant acknowledged as she ran through another system check. She rose and twisted to look back through the cabin. "Looks like our tail gunners are ready to rock."

Captain Castle advanced the throttles to full power and the engines screamed their war cry as the Osprey hurled itself toward the oncoming enemy formation. Tori noticed that he seemed to be talking to himself. He glanced sideways at her and his lips quirked upward in a sheepish grin. "Just a little tag of Kipling Lieutenant," he said. "Seemed appropriate."

"Kipling?"

"Yes, it goes like this: 'When your officer's dead and the sergeants look white, remember it's ruin to run from a fight."

"Marines don't run, sir."

"No, Lieutenant, we don't run."

The line of Havocs was closing quickly.

"Engage, Lieutenant," and two Stinger missiles raced ahead, diverging to track the targets at the extreme ends of the enemy formation. The sight of the smoke trails seemed to unnerve the two enemy pilots, and they turned in to evade. There is no escape from a Stinger at that range, and both Havocs took a direct hit on the engine intake, and both tumbled into the sea.

More importantly, their sudden turn had crossed the line of flight of the next in line, causing those two to take evasive action. Miraculously, the Osprey made it through the merge unscathed, since the Iranians were suddenly too busy avoiding aerial collisions to engage the Osprey effectively.

Tori Ellis had no such distractions as she switched to the belly-mounted Bushmaster auto cannon and in one burst removed the tail rotor of the Iranian flight leader's aircraft. She also got hits on two more; however, they remained in the fight.

In the years to come, the next three minutes of this fight would be studied intently by untold numbers of students of aerial warfare as they sought to grasp the art of the kill. They would comment about the precision of the fire that ripped and tore, sagely admire the masterful tactics that nullified the overwhelming numbers and technical advantage enjoyed by the Havocs, and marvel at the elegance and grace of the maneuvers, almost as if they were watching a highly choreographed dance.

But it was nothing more than two young warriors offering up their best to the god of battles. The offering was accepted, and Havoc gunships began to come apart as Tori Ellis hit them again and again with merciless precision.

The Marines on the LCACs were close enough to the action to follow the fight visually, and, considering the dire outcome that would result should the Osprey lose the fight, everyone on the four-remaining craft who could manage, was riveted to the scene. Cheer after cheer erupted as the gunships went down or exploded catastrophically. Havoc number five lost a rotor blade and spun madly as it met the surface in a shower of spray.

No one noted or cared at the time, and it would be some years before anyone did the math, but Rick Castle and Tori Ellis had just become the second and third Marine aviators to achieve the status of flying ace since the Korean War. Shortly after that achievement was recognized, it also would become apparent that the young lieutenant had also achieved a perhaps even more notable status. She was the first female ace in American history.

But for the moment, it was still not a sure thing that the two would survive to see that recognition. There were still three Havocs in the fight, and the Osprey was not undamaged. In fact, the crew was not undamaged either. The lieutenant had caught a couple of fragments in her forearms that were messy and painful but not immediately life threatening. The Captain's condition was considerably more serious; he had taken a substantial fragment of an exploding cannon shell in the right thigh, and by this time his flight suit was quite thoroughly soaked with blood.

Captain Castle weighed the options with some difficulty. He could tell that his reflexes were getting slower and just thinking analytically required a supreme effort. The frantic maneuvering of the last several minutes had ironically brought the combatants back to the same positions that they had held at the beginning of the fight. The three remaining Havocs were heading southwest towards the Wasp and its LCACs, with the crippled Osprey directly between and heading directly toward the Iranian gunships.

Captain Castle knew he couldn't repeat his opening maneuver because the Osprey was now running on only one engine, severely reducing its maneuverability. However, the most troublesome development was the ammo situation. The display showed that less than 50 rounds remained for the Bushmaster. Add in one remaining Stinger, and whatever fifty-caliber ammo the tail gunners had left…and that was all. Not nearly enough for a crippled aircraft to fight off three enemies that were now faster and more maneuverable.

###

Tori saw his eyes go dark, and she knew he had made his decision. Her eyes went wide with utter shock as he reached for the rotor tilt control and brought the aircraft to a hover, hanging motionless fifty feet above the choppy surface of the Persian Gulf, with three ravening wolves closing for the kill.

"You ever read Clausewitz, Lieutenant?"

" _On War_? Yes, sir." Tori managed to tamp down her surprise and get out an intelligible response to the unexpected question.

"Do you remember what he said was the most vulnerable part of an enemy force?"

Tori thought frantically, then "Oh, my God! The mind of the enemy commander! You're going to try to psych him out?"

"Something like that… Ahh! Now, that's interesting!"

The lieutenant followed his gaze and gasped as she realized that the Iranian choppers had also halted in a hover not 100 meters distant.

"What are they doing, sir?" the lieutenant wondered aloud.

"Trying to decide whether we're bluffing," he answered, "Trying to decide whether they can take us. Trying to decide whether they're ready to die today."

"What are we going to do, sir?"

"Stinger the first one that moves or fires, then concentrate on the middle one and pound it till it goes down or you run out of ammo."

Several hundred human beings seemed to slip into an alternate reality where breathing was unnecessary. American sailors and Marines on the amphibious ship Wasp, the surviving LCACs, and of course the crew of the Osprey, seemed frozen in time, waiting to see what the Iranian gunships would do. Tori Ellis had the right of it. Rick Castle was calling the tune, and daring the Iranian flight leader to pay the fiddler.

The captain reached painfully for a switch and transferred weapons control to his own console. Lieutenant Ellis was too shocked to respond as he rotated the Osprey ninety degrees to the left and triggered the only remaining Stinger missile.

It disappeared into the distance, no conceivable target in sight.

Tori exploded, "YOU IDIOT!" She snatched her helmet off and ripped at her seat harness, fully intending to choke the living daylights out of her boss for being so…

He was pointing weakly at the Havocs. It took a few seconds longer than it should have for her to realize she was looking at the rear aspect of three Havocs that were heading back toward the coast at top speed.

She fell back into her seat; the Iranian leader had done the same math that she had, only coming to a slightly different conclusion. Since only an idiot would waste their last missile, therefore the crazy American must have plenty more and was simply warning them off.

She blushed hotly and turned to apologize, only to hear the strained whisper, "Copilot's airplane," as the captain slumped forward, unconscious.


	11. Chapter 11

**_In which Rick wrestles with his demons and we meet a charter member of Castle's league of extraordinary women._**

 ** _Tampa Wednesday October 5 2016_**

Gradually the tremors faded, and he shook himself free of the memories and ancient terrors. He deliberately avoided the rear-view mirror. He knew what he would see. That haunted shell of a man that showed up periodically, despite his best effort.

What was he thinking?" He barely met the woman and she didn't seem all that excited about it. He didn't feel anything except annoyance. Did he?

It was her eyes, hazel, deep as infinity, pulling at his soul with the irresistible gravity of a black hole. Eyes that had haunted his dreams for as long as he could remember. Wait just a dang minute, when did he even notice the color of her eyes? He couldn't remember, but he would bet his last shred of sanity that they were indeed hazel.

"Rick, get a grip," he snarled at himself. "Just drive."

Ten minutes later, he parked the Ferrari in his space at the Orion Institute and walked up to the private entrance, where he pressed his right eye to the retina scanner. The cyber sentry considered for half a second and then the door slid silently open. He entered a small anteroom furnished only with an elevator door, which opened as he approached. As he entered the elevator, the silence was broken by a sultry contralto, "Good morning, Dr. Castle."

"Good morning, April," he answered, exchanging pleasantries with a computer as if it were entirely normal. "Third floor, please."

"Of course, sir. "The door slid closed and the elevator rose smoothly.

The door opened and Rick strolled out. "Thank you, April"

"My pleasure, sir. Have a nice day."

Rick had planned to go directly to Vienna's office, but following his little moment in the car, he thought a little recovery time might help him settle his nerves. So, instead of turning right to Vienna's office, he turned left and entered his own.

His assistant looked up from her terminal as he entered, meeting his lopsided grin with a smile, which faded marginally as she took in his strained appearance.

"I'm fine, Kathy," he preempted her assault. The diminutive Hispanic woman's loyalty and efficiency were only exceeded by her capacity for fussing over him. "Give me ten minutes to freshen up and ask Vienna if she'll join me.'

"Miss Vienna is already in your office," she pointed through the glass, and he could see the top of a dark head above the back of the wing chair Vienna favored whenever she came to his office. Oh, well. Nothing for it but to face the music.

###

Dr. Vienna Wong Takayoshi met her friend's look as he flopped boneless into the other wing chair. "You look like you've been dragged through a sinkhole," she said. "I thought the FBI was on our side." She could see Rick grinding his teeth as she butchered another of his homespun similes…but she refused to use any of her own, claiming that they lost something in translation.

It's _knothole_ , _Vienna_ , _dragged through a knothole_. "The meeting with the Bureau went fine," he said, "but I kind of had a little flashback after I left. I had to pull off and park for a while."

Her heart twinged a little for him. "Kyra or Bandar Deylam?" she asked gently.

"Both," he whispered. "It was a woman, Special Agent Kate Beckett. She got to me. She made me think of Kyra, and that made me think about …Well, you know."

Vienna was amazed, and even a little shocked. She'd known Rick Castle for almost fifteen years, during which time she had gone from grad student to research collaborator, to business partner, to de facto COO of the Institute, while at the same time becoming a close and trusted friend. If any woman since Kyra had gotten through Rick's defenses she would know; and it had not happened.

"Want to talk about it?" she prompted.

"It was her eyes. It's spooky, like I've seen them before, and they've been lost, and I finally found them again, and I …I don't know Vienna. Most of the time she acted as if she couldn't stand the sight of me. What the heck is wrong with me? I've been with lots of women since Kyra died."

"Lots," Vienna agreed.

He frowned at her "Thanks, old friend, but the point is women were throwing themselves at me and I felt nothing beyond the moment. Then I spend maybe twenty minutes with this woman, who acts like she wants to spit in my face, and I have to pull off the road to keep from having an accident; I can't get her out of my brain."

"Talk to her," Vienna suggested.

"Ironically, I don't have much choice; she's my designated contact at the Bureau."

"That could be awkward. Think you can handle it?

"I think I have to try."

"Okay, what else do you know about this woman? Could you actually have met her at some point in time?"

"I think I have to assume I did, but I can't for the life of me figure when or where."

Rick peered through the glass wall and caught Kathy's eye. He motioned her in and said, "Kathy, see what you can find out about Special Agent Katherine Beckett, currently assigned to the local FBI office."

Rick and Vienna went on to their normal daily discussion of the business of the Institute. An hour later, Kathy returned with a short stack of printouts. She discreetly cleared her throat to get their attention. Rick pointed to the settee across from them, and she seated herself.

"Okay, mad wizard cyber ninja grandmother," Rick teased, "what do you have?"

"Special Agent Katherine Gavilan Beckett, thirty-five years old, has been with the FBI for ten years. She entered the FBI Academy right out of law school. Yale, graduated top of her class. Before that, she took an undergraduate degree in comparative literature at Stanford, again top of her class.

"Nothing interesting in her financials," Kathy continued, "other than she's a saver more than a spender. No known hobbies, no known romantic interests, known associates include Special Agent Hayley Shipton, also of the local FBI office."

"Gavilan!" Rick suddenly blurted.

"What?" Vienna and Kathy asked together.

"Gavilan. Her middle name is Gavilan."

"So?"

"It's a Spanish word… Kathy?"

"It's the name of a small hawk." Kathy supplied

"Sparrow Hawk." He jumped up and began to pace. "Don't you see, it's her. Kate

Beckett is the Sparrow Hawk."

Vienna's eyes went wide in recognition. "The serial rapist case. She took him down."

"Without back-up." Rick added.

"Your kind of Girl." Vienna teased.

"Yeah…I mean No. I just think it's extraordinary."


	12. Chapter 12

"Well, sir, here's where it gets more interesting. First, there was an incident with a young man during law school. She accused her boyfriend of raping her using a date rape drug. He claimed it was consensual, and the kid's high-powered lawyer got it thrown out of court. Two days later the kid shows up in the ER, beaten half to death. She was taken in for questioning, but never charged, as she had an alibi. But the New Haven police were convinced she did it, they just couldn't break her alibi.

She is a naturalized citizen, took the oath in 1998 when she turned eighteen. Sir, her immigration papers don't list a country of origin or the names of her parents."

Rick straightened up a little, that was certainly irregular, but…" Isn't she the daughter of James Beckett, the senator from New York?"

"She's listed that way on all her paperwork since '98." Kathy acknowledged. "All her current paperwork also lists her mother as Johanna Becket."

"That name sounds familiar" Vienna stated.

"She was the New York Supreme Court Justice who was the target of an assassination attempt. After she recovered, she retired from the court and founded The Justice Initiative."

Kathy interrupted his thoughts. "And there is absolutely no record of her before she took the oath in 1998. As far as any available documentation shows, she didn't exist before that time."

 **Tampa Thursday Oct. 6**

"You up for lunch?" Kate stuck her head around Hayley's office door.

"Sure, I was just heading over to see you. I've got some more information on Professor Ferrari." Hayley's tone clearly indicated that Kate wasn't going to like what she had to say.

"Let's go, you can tell me at lunch. Five Guys?"

"Sure, what's a few extra hours on the treadmill?" Both die-hard burger and fries junkies laughed, knowing that they worked out enough that a weekly visit to Five Guys and their incredible burgers wasn't going to have a noticeable effect on their toned bodies.

Piling into the silver BMW, they made the short drive to the restaurant in silence. After placing their usual orders, they sipped their Diet Cokes as they waited for their food.

Kate's curiosity won out. "Okay, so what is the latest on Professor Castle? Is he an alien or something?"

"Close. His records prior to 2001 aren't missing, they're locked."

Kate burst into a fit of coughing as she unexpectedly inhaled a straw full of soda;

although her coughing had mostly subsided by the time the manager brought their food to the table.

"Locked?"

"Yep, and not just any lock, an eyes-only lock."

"Whose eyes?"

"POTUS," Hayley revealed, with an undertone that said she didn't quite believe it herself.

"The President?" Kate didn't choke, but only because she wasn't eating or drinking at that moment. "Who or what is this guy, with a black past that can only be accessed by the freakin' president of the whole freakin' USA?"

"I'm not finished yet." Hayley dropped the other shoe. "Twenty minutes after I found the lock this morning, I got a call."

"From your mom?"

"Ha, I wish!" Hayley leaned closer to Kate and her voice dropped several decibels. "It seems that the file had another security feature in addition to the lock. It had a trip-wire, and I tripped it."

"And the owner called to say hi?" Kate finished the thought.

"Yep, the call was from Camille Santori..." Hayley paused …wait _for it._

"And she is…?" Kate asked, right on cue.

"Personal assistant and Chief of Staff to the Attorney General." Hayley slumped back in the booth, having delivered her bombshell, "And she stated quite forcefully that the Bureau would be better off if it spent its resources chasing bad guys instead of trying to hack in to other people's secret files."

"Wow." Kate was speechless for once. She took a careful sip of her drink, thinking hard.

"So, when are you getting together with the mysterious professor? I know you won't be able to resist the challenge of solving this mystery."

"We have that visit to the Hillsboro Sheriff's department tomorrow to go over security for the Super Bowl. Sounds like an opportunity for a ride-along to me." Kate grinned wickedly.

"Make the call," Hayley chuckled.


	13. Chapter 13

**Tampa Thursday October 6**

The following morning, Rick and his normal morning-after-poker-night hangover found themselves in the shotgun seat of an FBI issue Chevy Tahoe. Normally, the prospect of a road trip with two gorgeous ladies would have been exceedingly pleasant. These two ladies, however admittedly gorgeous, carried badges and guns and were expertly interrogating him about his past. He hadn't revealed anything truly major yet, but it was only a matter of time.

The tactical radio lying on the console between Kate and Rick chimed insistently. She reached down to turn up the volume so she could hear the message on her wireless headset. Rick was silently thanking the universe for the interruption when he heard a sharp intake of breath. He turned toward Kate, and her face went pale. Her hand on the radio trembled slightly.

"What's wrong?" Hayley demanded, leaning forward between the two front seats.

Kate spoke rapidly into the radio and flicked the switch on the console, activating lights and siren as she fought the wheel to get the big SUV turned and headed in the right direction.

"We're heading toward the University?" Rick observed.

"There was a shooting at The Claw," Kate responded, tight-lipped. "Two groups waiting to tee off were machine-gunned on the first tee, all eight were killed.

"Damn, I play golf there sometimes."

"It's even worse than that," Kate added.

"What is it, Kate?"

"It was a doubleheader, Hayley" A large tear coursed down Kate's cheek as she concentrated on snaking the SUV through traffic while listening to the information coming in on the tactical radio.

"Here?" Hayley gasped. "What did they follow up with?"

"Explosives of some kind, apparently. It's hard to tell, everyone seems to be in a total panic."

"Excuse me ladies, but what is a doubleheader?" Rick had a feeling that he knew, but wanted to be sure.

Hayley answered, allowing Kate to concentrate on her driving. "Basically they commit some type of crime, then ambush the emergency personnel who respond. It's been happening more and more frequently over the last ten years or so. Bastards!"

Rick imagined the chaos that reigned at the scene. With eight original victims, there would have been at least eight ambulances, a couple of fire trucks, and God knows how many cops and CSI's. If the perps knew what they were doing, casualties would number in the dozens at least.

Kate's voice caught as she shot a sideways glance at Hayley. "There are more than a hundred casualties, and…" she swallowed hard "Cody and Maria were there, probably some others of our folks as well."

Hayley sank back into the seat, and Rick could see she was struggling to maintain her composure. He narrowed his eyes at Kate.

"Her brother and his girlfriend," she mouthed silently, "CSU techs."

Kate took the entrance on two wheels. Rick pointed to the left. "Go that way; the first tee is just on the other side of the clubhouse."

It is officially known as a 'Mass Casualty Event'. Bodies littered the once immaculately groomed grounds around the club house. No stranger to scenes of horror, Rick's sweeping glance estimated over a hundred casualties. Most disturbing, many were clearly emergency personnel. A double handful were unloading emergency supplies and moving purposefully to minister to the most seriously injured.

Kate braked to a halt on the eighteenth green, further churning up the magnificent smoothness of the bent-grass putting surface. It was as close as she could get, given the press of other vehicles, and it appeared that whoever was running the medical side of things had set up their triage station in the area between the eighteenth green and the first tee. She quickly ran to the back and pulled out three vests, tossing one to each of her companions, quickly slipping hers over her head and cinching the Velcro strips tight.

Rick looked a bit dubious at the FBI in large gold letters across the vest. Kate snorted. "We'll worry about the legalities later. Let's go." She spun around and took off at a fast jog, heading for a cluster of uniforms that looked like a command post.

Rick followed more slowly, his eyes scanning constantly, but driven by the mind of a soldier, not a cop. This all looked suspiciously familiar. He stopped and pivoted slowly, his right arm extended in front, forefinger indicating areas to examine. Quickly he began to build a mental picture of the terrain, and it was always the terrain, the ground, that provided the imperative as to how military operations were conducted. Make no mistake; this had been a military operation, not a crime. The arm pointed to a copse of live oaks about thirty meters away. _There_ , he thought, _one would be there_ , and off he went, instinctively sprinting to cross the open space as fast as possible. He reached the trees, and immediately noticed the wedge-shaped scorch marks on the grass. _Damn them_.

At the apex of the scorched area he found what he had dreaded, but had known must be there. He squinted at the mangled piece of light green plastic, noticing the foreign symbols stenciled on its flat surface: Chinese. _Double damn_.

"What's that?"

He startled, looked up. Hayley had apparently decided to follow him rather than Kate. _Interesting choice on her part_.

"Claymore mine." He dropped down on one knee and scrounged around in the leaf litter where he had found the mine casing. "Found it," he pointed out the object to Hayley as he stood up. It was about the size of a Flash drive with a thin wire hanging from one end. "This is how they detonated it, with a radio transmitter. Probably want to keep that for evidence."

Hayley nodded and fished in her vest pocket for an evidence bag and a pair of gloves.

Rick strode toward another spot about twenty meters further on. "There'll be at least four of them," he called back to Hayley. "It would take at least that many to cause all this mayhem." He stopped abruptly and waited for the woman to catch up. "I'm sorry, I didn't ask about your brother and his girlfriend."

She gave a tight smile. "He's already been airlifted out, and Maria went with him. They think he'll be okay."

"Good." He shuddered violently.

"You all right, Professor?

"Yes…No! Hayley, has there ever been a triple-header?"

"Not that I know of. You don't think…Oh, my god…they wouldn't."

"Why not? If I'd planned this op, I wouldn't walk away and let a target-rich environment like this go to waste."

His mind raced at breakneck speed, desperately trying to pierce the darkness and see the means they would use, so he could fight back.

He turned and looked back up the length of the 18th fairway, noticing that a family of rabbits had wandered out of the woods and was demolishing a clump of clover in the middle of the fairway. He focused on the rabbits, hoping the sheer incongruity of their presence would help him calm his tumultuous mind.


	14. Chapter 14

Just past the rabbits, a set of sprinkler heads popped up and began to spray. A couple of seconds later, the next set of sprinklers popped up. This set was next to the rabbits, but they seemed to be unaffected and went on eating. Every second another set of sprinklers rose up and activated, the pulsing streams of liquid advancing purposefully toward the crime scene around the first tee and eighteenth green

Hayley observed, "They need to cut those off. If they keep going they're going to get the wounded wet and soak the crime scene."

Suddenly the entire group of rabbits began to twitch and spasm uncontrollably, keeling over finally to lie motionless on the bright green grass.

"What was…" she gasped.

Rick grabbed the sheer jabbering terror that threatened to devour him and shoved it into some remote corner of his mind to be dealt with later as he mentally shed his professor skin to once again become a Marine.

The next set of sprinklers activated, soaking them both. He noted the faint fruity odor, confirming his worst fear: Trabun, nerve gas. He grabbed Hayley's hand and barked, "Run for your life!" before running like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels straight for the nearest ambulance, dragging the woman with him.

When they reached the ambulance, the sprinklers already blanketed the area and people were starting to show symptoms. Rick could feel the muscles in his arms starting to twitch uncontrollably as he bowled an EMT out of the way and ripped open the HAZMAT locker.

Searching with the speed of desperation, he found what he was looking for: two packs of ten atropine self-injectors. Grabbing one, he slammed it into his thigh with frantic strength, forcing the needle inside through packaging and clothing both. Relief was almost instantaneous, and he dropped to his knees beside Hayley, who was barely conscious. He jabbed another injector in to her thigh, easily piercing her jeans, and went on to the EMT.

He needed help, and quickly. The number of atropine injectors in each ambulance was limited and would not be anywhere near enough to treat everyone. Many would need multiple injections, especially if they couldn't get them out of the spray quickly.

Rick extracted his phone and pressed the emergency number for Vienna. She answered instantly.

"Vienna, the new Nanojects. I need them now at The Claw, 18th green, there's a black FBI Tahoe. There's been a terrorist attack using a nerve agent. I've been exposed, but I gave myself some atropine, so I'm okay for a few minutes, but it won't last. I've got to go. I love you."

The Orion Institute was the world's largest producer of anti-biological and anti-chemical warfare agents. At the moment that Vienna took Rick's call, the Institute had just over three thousand doses of atropine in their distribution center.

Any organization run by Vienna Takayoshi was by definition efficient and flexible, but with the life of their founder and hundreds of others at stake, the organization exceeded even her expectations. Within minutes of Rick's call, those doses were loaded into the Institute's Sikorsky S76 helicopter. Already light on its wheels, it lifted off immediately and raced away to the east under full power.

After his call to Vienna; Rick, Hayley, and the EMT had managed to gather all the atropine available and administer it to the Medical personnel who would then treat the rest with the supplies that Rick was betting with his life were on the way.

Hayley with her younger hearing heard the high-pitched whine and motioned to Rick, but soon enough the sleek aircraft in the Institute's Blue and Gold was hovering over the green and the boxes of nanojects were tossed to the personnel on the ground. The pilot signaled to Rick and tossed out one last large package before lifting away and heading back to the Institute.

Rick retrieved his package as he watched the revived paramedics and EMTs spread out and begin administering the antidote. He motioned to Hayley. "Get a couple of nanojects and go find Kate. If she can make it, bring her here. This isn't over yet."

He attacked the tape and foam of his package with his Swiss Army knife. The razor-sharp blade made short work of the outer layer, revealing what appeared to be a large metal camera case. Rick set the case on the ground and worked the combination. A quiet click rewarded his efforts, and he flung back the lid, regarding the contents with grim satisfaction. _Damn, that woman's good! She knows me entirely too well_. The first object to be retrieved was a holstered handgun, which he deftly clipped to his belt.

"Dr. Castle!" Hayley arrived with her arm around a stumbling, drooling Kate. "I gave her the shot, but she didn't improve much." She gently lowered the other woman to the ground, cradling her head on her lap to keep it off the mud.

Will quickly examined the semi-conscious agent. The drooling and copious flow of mucous were obvious to even a casual observer, as were the muscle twitching and spasms growing more pronounced as he peeled an eyelid apart with thumb and forefinger. The pupil was an almost invisible pinpoint. "Damn, we're losing her. Hayley, How many doses of atropine has she had?"

"They said they had given her four before I got there, and then I gave her one of the new ones that came in the helicopter!" She gently stroked her friend's hair, tears flowing freely. Her impossibly brown eyes met Rick's gaze, imploring with such power that his heart seemed to pause for a second.

"Some people just don't respond to atropine," he admitted, a chill settling over his thoughts as he watched the woman losing the struggle to breathe; racking his brain for a solution and hating himself for choosing physics over medicine; maybe if he were a real doctor he could save her, maybe…

Suddenly he lunged for the metal box, almost crashing into Hayley as he cleared the two women in a single leap. Landing on his knees, he thrust his hands into the depths of the case. He knew it had to be there. In the fifteen years he had known her, Vienna had never failed him. She would have anticipated a situation similar to what he faced, and, having anticipated the need, she would move half the galaxy if necessary to make sure he had the tools to deal with it.

Nanobot, a whimsical name for a device if there ever was one, was the product of seven years of the most intense research imaginable, research that would undoubtedly secure a lasting fame for Vienna Takayoshi should it ever be published. In short, Nanobot was a custom-designed molecular machine that could be introduced into a human body to carry out almost any conceivable task, from removing plaque from atherosclerotic arteries to repairing damaged nerve tissue.

None of the various incarnations that the Institute was working on was even close to being made public knowledge, but one that had been tested on humans was known as G-bot, and its designated mission was to search and destroy Type G nerve agents. The advantage of G-Bot over the standard atropine treatment was that atropine was only effective in neutralizing the nerve agent before it bound to the target sites in the victim's nervous system. Once bound, the damage was done and atropine was essentially worthless.

G-Bot on the other hand could locate the affected sites and repair the damage to the nerve receptors and at the same time blast the nerve agent molecules into harmless fragments.

As far as Rick knew, there was only one container of G-Bot in existence, and there it was. He raised it to the heavens in his fist as a primal growl of triumph escaped his lips. "Hayley, please tell me you are Kate's emergency contact," he queried urgently as he armed the injector, which looked remarkably like a child's water pistol.

"Why, yes, I am" she responded. "Why do you…?"

"This is an experimental treatment for nerve gas. It's never been used in action before, but it's our only chance to save her." He paused. "Please trust me on this one!"

She hesitated only a microsecond, finding, as had many others, that trusting Rick Castle in a crisis was not much of a stretch. "Do it."

He pressed the injector to the side of Kate's neck and triggered it in one fluid motion; the barely audible puff signaled the release of a hundred thousand nano warriors that rampaged through her system like Attila's Huns, pillaging and plundering every vestige of the poison from her body.

"Now we wait." He flopped back onto the mangled grass, letting his breathing return to normal.

Hayley suddenly broke into hysterical laughter. Pointing at the very visible bruise from the injector, she gasped out "It looks like you gave her a hickey. She's going to shoot you."

Rick chuckled and forced himself to stand. "She's breathing easier and her color is definitely improving," he observed before starting toward the clubhouse, calling back over his shoulder, "I'm going to see if I can find something to clean her up a bit."

Hayley watched him go. "I bet whatever is hiding in that locked past of his is pretty darn interesting," she whispered. "Sooo…not just a college professor." She looked down at her friend, who was rapidly regaining consciousness. "You're in for a hell of a ride, girl."


	15. Chapter 15

Rick returned with an armful of sinfully soft towels from the members' locker room and a couple of bottles of water from the snack bar. He tossed them to Hayley and ran to the Tahoe, where he retrieved a small travel thermos that he had stashed there when they started out this morning. Thank goodness last night was poker night. He dropped to one knee, helping Hayley raise Kate to a sitting position and continue her cleanup effort. Opening the thermos, he put it to the woman's lips and commanded, "Drink."

"Wha…izit," Kate slurred out with an effort, looking as skeptical as a person who had just cheated death by dealing from the bottom of the deck could look.

Rick grinned crookedly. "World's best hangover remedy, good for what ails you."

He tilted it up, and simple self-preservation forced her to swallow most of the liquid to avoid choking. She found it surprisingly refreshing, and her next words were much more intelligible.

"What the hell is going on? I don't remember anything after the sprinklers went off."

Hayley brought her partner up to speed as Rick retrieved his box and resumed unpacking it. The first item was a leather badge holder. He unwrapped the lanyard and dropped it over his neck, ignoring the shocked expressions from his two companions. If FBI agents had been issued lasers in the place of eyes, He would have been reduced to a charcoal briquette as he reached into the box again and came up with an honest-to-God H&K UMP submachine gun, complete with silencer. He made a mental bet with himself as to which woman would react first.

"Dr. Castle!" He won.

He disconnected the badge holder from its lanyard and handed it to Kate without comment. She flipped it open and instantly recognized the silver six-pointed star of a United States Marshal badge. Then she noticed the additional engraving "Inspector General." That confused her a little, because she knew the Marshal Service used the title Inspector for very senior deputies without supervisory responsibilities, but she had never run into the title Inspector General.

"So Professor, er, Marshal, or Inspector, or Dr. Castle, or…Just what the heck do I call you now?"

"Just 'Rick' works for me, not much into titles." He retrieved the final item in the box, an electronic device that looked like the offspring of a shotgun wedding between an iPad and a video game controller.

"Professor. Er, Dr. Castle," Kate interjected, annoyance and curiosity clearly vying for dominance. "Considering what you've already pulled out of that box of yours, I'm afraid to ask what that is."

"It's the controller for a reconnaissance drone."

Both women were dumbfounded. "Seriously?"

"I never joke about reconnaissance drones."

Kate eyed him skeptically. "I'm so going to regret this, but why exactly do we need a reconnaissance drone?"

"To find the motherless bastards who did this and…"

"But, Professor, they've got to be long gone by now!" Hayley protested.

"No, they're still here," he stated with the certainty of death, "And probably have us under observation right this minute. This is a suicide mission; they don't intend to escape, only to take as many people with them as they can. Just like 9/11."

"But you're just a…."

"College professor?" he finished the sentence for Kate. "Let me show you something." He removed the badge holder from its lanyard and flipped it over. Peeling back a hidden flap, he handed it to the young woman who examined it uncomprehendingly.

Hayley peeked over her shoulder and took in the contents quickly, gasping in surprise before pointing out the items to the other woman. Two sets of wings and four ribbons. "The gold ones are pilot wings, not sure what kind of aircraft," she said. "The other set of wings are jump wings—Force Recon, I think. The top ribbon is a Purple Heart; it means the 'professor' here was wounded in action. The next ribbon is a Combat Action Ribbon—means the professor has been there and done that under enemy fire." As she got to the last one, her eyes widened, "…and this one, girlfriend, is a Silver Star with three clusters. That means Professor Castle made a habit out of taking names and kicking ass in the name of the United States Marine Corps!"

Kate handed the badge holder back for the second time, wondering what else might be hidden in there somewhere. "I suppose you've got the key to the bat-cave in there somewhere too?"

Rick grinned. "Nah, I keep it in a hollow rock next to the door."

He paused and his stomach twisted as he met the gaze of each woman in turn. "I showed you those things for a couple of reasons: First, we are in the middle of a battle and the bad guys are winning. They've employed weapons of mass destruction. They've murdered American citizens on American soil and so far haven't gotten so much as a hangnail in payback. It's going to be hours at least before we can get someone here to deal with them on even terms, and that doesn't begin to take into account what they might still have up their sleeve to do in the meantime.

"So, as of this minute, the three of us are the only conceivable counterforce. I'm going after them, what about you?"

The two women exchanged glances before answering simultaneously, "I'm going!"

Rick held their gazes, looking into their souls for the iron hardness that had to be there to have any chance of taking the fight to the enemy…and winning. Satisfied with what he saw, he continued his briefing. "Second: You two are going to have to turn off your cop instincts, 'cause they'll get you killed. When we go in, we're not going in to make arrests; we're going in to kill them before they kill us or any more of our fellow citizens. Can you do that?"

Hayley protested weakly. "What about their rights…?"

Rick interrupted with a tone that would have frozen liquid helium. "The only right they have now is the right to die for their cause, and if we go in, they will either kill us, or we will kill them; nothing else is even an option. Can you deal with that? Because if you can't, then I'll go by myself."

Both women nodded emphatically without even glancing at each other first. At his invitation, they scooted closer to kneel on the grass behind him peering over his shoulders at the screen on his controller as he powered it up.

The two women inhaled sharply as the screen clearly showed the three of them from overhead, sitting or kneeling on what had once been the 18th green of an exclusive private golf course, but had become ground zero of the first ever use of WMD against the U.S. Both women looked up, trying to spot the drone. Both had excellent eyesight, but, try as they might, the drone remained invisible to them.

"Valkyries are almost impossible to detect, even if you know what to look for," Rick offered. "Here, let me show you." He touched the screen and a disc-shaped object about two meters in diameter appeared 100 meters or so directly above the green. He touched the screen again and the object disappeared.

He manipulated the tiny joystick built into the controller, and the picture showed that the drone was moving to the north. Rick had split the screen, one window showing a normal optical image, the other an infrared image showing heat sources. It didn't take long for a yellow blob to appear on the screen. Comparison to the optical image confirmed that it was a human lying prone in a clump of palmettos using a pair of binoculars to scan the area.

The observer was about 250 meters away, just off the eighteenth fairway, with an excellent line of sight to the ambush zone.

"What's that?" Hayley pointed to the screen near the human figure, which shifted position as they watched, bringing up the binoculars for a quick scan of the area.

Rick made a couple of adjustments to sharpen the image. "Dragunov sniper rifle on a bipod."

"Looks like you were right Professor, they're still here." Kate looked at Rick expectantly. "What do we do now?"

"What do you do when you find the tail of a rattlesnake sticking out of your flower beds?"

"Find the head!" Kate responded instantly. She hated snakes.

"And?"

"Cut it off?"

"Good girl!"

"We've got to find the head, and we've got to do it quickly, before they drop the next shoe. But first we need to take care of mister sniper. Do you have any heavy weapons in the Tahoe?"

Kate responded, "Two M-4s, should I go get them?" She started to scramble up, only to have Rick pull her back down, forcefully. Annoyed, she punched him on the shoulder to make him release her arm. Didn't work. It was like punching a tree. She tried to cover up her surprise and embarrassment by switching to verbal attack mode and glaring at him "Let me go, damn it!"

Rick kept his hold and explained patiently, "Agent Beckett, what do you think mister sniper is going to do if he sees someone marked FBI pulling automatic weapons out of an obviously official vehicle?"

"Oh." She twisted her arm out of his grip. "You can let go now."

"What are we going to do, then?" Hayley asked. "I don't really like sitting here looking like a target!"

"We're going to let the Valkyrie take care of it." Rick answered grimly, continuing to work with the controller.

"The drone?" Hayley scooted closer to watch the screen again.

"Yes, the drone. Look here," he pointed to the screen, which now clearly sported a set of crosshairs.

"That thing is armed!" both woman interjected simultaneously. Then, "What is he doing?" They had both seen the figure roll over and settle into the stock of the sniper rifle. Apparently, the small group in FBI jackets that were obviously not dying from nerve gas was too tempting.

"Profes…" Kate started to point out the threat.

Rick grabbed the two women around the neck, pulling their faces to his chest as he spoke with careful precision, "Chooser 1, engage." Had anyone been looking directly at the clump of palms, they would have seen what might have been described as a perfectly spherical lightning bolt, like a small sun that appeared for a microsecond, perfectly centered on the sniper's location. Of course, if anyone had been looking at the fireball they would never see anything again, because they would have been blinded instantly. The resulting thunderclap startled everyone within a large radius.

Kate recovered first and realizing that she was still being held, struck out blindly, punching Rick in the solar plexus hard enough to draw a grunt of pain and secure her release. Hayley thankfully extracted herself from his hold without resorting to violence. Kate glared at Rick, her chest heaving, "Don't you ever touch me again, you bastard!"

Rick shook his head to clear the ringing. "Damn, that thing was loud." He looked at the obviously freaked-out Kate, raising both hands as if to ward off another blow. "Agent Beckett, I apologize for surprising you like that, but I had to make sure you weren't looking at the fireball or you would have been blinded."

Hayley finally got her breathing under control and gasped, "What was that, a nuke?"

"Actually, that's not far off." Rick noticed the looks of sheer terror he was getting. "But not in the way you're thinking I'll explain later. Now let's mount up. We've got a snake to kill."

The two women stood a little unsteadily, still slightly disoriented.

Hayley spoke wryly. "Dr. Castle, I don't know whether to shoot you, arrest you, or fall down and worship. But I do know one thing…"

Rick looked at her quizzically.

"I sure as hell don't want you mad at me!"

"Hayley why don't you grab a golf cart; Agent Beckett, why don't you retrieve your weapons from the Tahoe; and Chooser and I will locate the sprinkler controls and reconnoiter a route for us." He bent over the screen, carefully analyzing the images scrolling across the screen as the Valkyrie moved invisibly toward where he vaguely remembered the maintenance shed was located.

The commandeered four-seat cart raced for the eastern border of the golf course, following cart paths where possible, and going cross-country where necessary. Kate drove, following Rick's terse directions as he monitored the video feed from the Valkyrie.

Hayley was alone in the second seat, holding on desperately with one hand while balancing an M4 carbine in the other.

"Got 'em," Rick grunted with satisfaction. "Stop for a second, Agent Beckett."

Kate braked to a halt, and both women eagerly studied the display while Rick described the situation. "We're here, and this building is the maintenance shed. It looks like there are six to eight guys inside and two sentries outside, one to the north, and one just to the south of the maintenance shed."

"What are those?" Kate asked, referring to a half dozen nondescript blobs scattered around the building and barely warm enough to register on the infrared sensor.

Rick didn't need to zoom in. "Bodies," he growled. "Probably the maintenance crew. "

"If they are still inside, that means they are doing something else that involves the sprinkler system," Hayley offered.

"Yeah, it does, so we have to move fast. The first thing is to take out the two sentries without alerting the element inside the shed. This one," he pointed to the figure to the north, "He will be easier to take, since he is right at the edge of the oaks on that hummock." He traced a path with his index finger on the screen that would get them to the back of the grove without crossing the sentry's line of sight.

Kate nodded and turned the golf cart toward their prey, a little more slowly and deliberately this time.

Hayley couldn't control her curiosity any longer. "Why don't you just zap them with that drone thing?"

"Chooser only carries one shot. We have to do the rest of it the old-fashioned way, up close and personal."

They rode silently for a few minutes, until they reached the spot Rick had picked out to begin his stalk. As he stepped out of the cart, he shifted the sling of the UMP from a carry to an assault position and eased back the bolt enough to verify that a round was chambered. It was. He flipped the selector to three round burst. "If I'm not back in ten minutes, call in the cavalry, and God help us."

"Professor are you sure you—"

"Remember Agent Beckett, I was a Force Recon Marine. I used to do this to unwind after a hard day at work."

He turned and disappeared into the undergrowth. Rick moved quickly but silently to where the growth started to thin out on the far edge. His heart rate spiked as he realized the sentry was not where he expected. _Where the…ahh, there he is_. The sentry had walked into the edge of the trees to relieve himself. _My drill instructors at Quantico would have beaten the crap out of a sentry who left his post to pee, he chuckled grimly to himself. But at least they wouldn't have put a bullet into his brain_. He raised his silenced weapon and triggered a three-shot burst perfectly centered on the bridge of the target's nose. The sentry went down instantly.

###

Kate and Haley sat quietly in the golf cart, neither one wanting to break the oppressive silence.

Hayley scanned the area where Rick had disappeared, her carbine ready.

Kate studied the Valkyrie control unit. A ball of ice seemed to have settled in the pit of her stomach. She had just watched the death of another human being in real time on a screen like it was some TV crime drama. Her mind reeled with the knowledge that the geeky college professor she had dismissed so cavalierly at their first meeting was in fact a trained killer of no mean skill.

He had just demonstrated that by stalking to within ten meters of an alert sentry and blowing him away with one shot. Not a center mass shot like a cop would make, but right in the center of what she knew was called the 'sniper's triangle', ensuring instant death and no chance of raising an alarm that would have killed them all.

"Let's roll, ladies." Rick's voice from close behind would undoubtedly have caused several coronaries had the two women not been young and in superb physical condition. Even then it was a close run thing as both jumped and spun to face him.

"Are you freakin' crazy?" Kate demanded.

"I could've shot you," Hayley chided.

"That's what the mad in mad scientist means: crazy. So, guilty as charged, and I'm way too lovable to shoot."

"Don't count on it, Professor." Kate gave him a semi-glare.

"Oh, I'm betting my life on it, Special Agent. All in!"

Kate shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She could think of a lot of ways to take that statement, many of which led into areas best left unexplored. She looked to Hayley for rescue, only to find her friend absolutely engrossed in the cumulus clouds building steadily to the west. Maybe the best defense is a good offense. Get the conversation back on the subject at hand. "Uh…Dr. Castle, what about the second sentry?"

"I'm going to need your help on this one." Rick grimaced as he studied the distance on the screen. The second sentry had taken up position under a cluster of three palm trees that were at least fifty meters from any other cover. In fact, other than flat green grass, the only other feature in the vicinity was a water hazard about twenty meters north of the clump of palms. "I can't stalk him there, and it's too far for an absolutely certain shot from inside the nearest cover."

"So, what do you need us for?" Kate asked, somewhat mystified. "I doubt either of us can make the shot if you can't."

"A diversion."

"A what?" Hayley asked, more to stall for time to internalize what he seemed to be asking than because she was ignorant of the nature of diversions.

"A diversion, that's where you distract…"

"We know what a diversion is, Professor!" Kate interjected "It's just we are not thrilled with the idea of running out into the open to get shot so you can do your sneaky ninja thing."

"I was thinking of something a little less brute force, a little more finesse. Perhaps you two could use your creativity to come up with something less obvious."

"Creativity huh?" Kate scoffed. "I think we can arrange something suitably distracting."

"Okay, then, let's mount up. I want you to circle around to the south and drop me off, then you two return here and stage your diversion to the south, so his attention will be focused in the opposite direction from my approach." Rick pointed out the route on the Valkyrie screen as he talked. Both women nodded their understanding as Kate got the cart underway.

###

After they dropped him off, Rick ghosted along, approaching the edge of the grove with extreme care. If the sentry were to raise the alarm, the main element in the maintenance shed would not only come boiling out with blood in their eye, but they would most likely complete the preparations for whatever they had planned for round four. He glanced at his watch, thirty seconds to show time.

"Ah, there they are, and right on time, too." He made the last checks on his weapon and stepped carefully to the wood's edge. The golf cart containing the two women was rolling down the cart path almost directly at the sentry. Rick noted approvingly that they had concealed their weapons and shed the FBI-issue body armor. The cart slid to a halt as they approached the water hazard.

Both women jumped out, Hayley pointed at the water hazard, and suddenly the two were running as fast as they could towards the water, shedding clothing as they went.

Rick almost forgot to begin his stalk, only to be brought back to his senses by the sentry reaching under his jacket for either a weapon or a radio. He need not have worried. The sight of such a miniscule amount of red and black lace apparently exerted a powerful sedative effect. The sentry froze, his jaw seriously in danger of self-dislocation.

Rick moved with the peculiar scuttling motion of a stalking cat, minimal motion and maximum speed. Reaching his preferred firing position just as Hayley pushed Kate into the water, laughing hysterically, he triggered another 3-round burst, the snick-snick of the action cycling loud in his ears. The sentry's head exploded in a chunky red mist, while the majority of the body seemed to fold inward on itself like a collapsing balloon, tumbling to the ground without so much as a muscle twitch.


	16. Chapter 16

Rick gave a tiny shake of his head as he lowered the UMP and stepped forward to help Kate out of the pond.

Hayley had tried to haul her friend out, but the bottom of the pond was that particularly gelatinous variety of mud known as gumbo, and the woman just could not break its grip. Rick reached them in a couple of strides, grabbed the forearm that Hayley had been using as a handhold, took a deep breath, and heaved. Kate popped out of the mud like a champagne cork, and he deposited her gently on the bank. She might have appeared more than a little bedraggled to the average observer, but he thought she looked adorable. However, he wisely kept that sentiment to himself.

Kate gave Hayley a mega-glare, promising a particularly horrible retribution, but the younger woman just held up her hands in apology. "Look, girlfriend, that sentry was getting his act together and reaching for something under his jacket. I either had to take off what little clothes I still had on or push you in the water. In purely selfish terms, option two seemed like a better choice."

"It did work," Rick offered. That comment earned him a glare as well. He strode to the golf cart, followed by the two women.

"The vests and carbines are in the golf bags," Hayley informed him. He quickly passed out the vests, and the women shrugged them on over Victoria's best-kept secrets, and grabbed their carbines.

"Okay, we're going in. I'll take the center where the sprinkler controls are located. Hayley, you take the left, and Agent Beckett, you take the right. Go in shooting and keep shooting as long as anyone's moving. Any questions? No? Then let's kill this snake!"

He raised his weapon to firing position and headed for the door to the maintenance shed. When he reached it and noted that it opened outward, he nodded to Kate, who reached over and silently turned the knob a full turn and held it waiting for Rick's signal.

"No mercy," he said almost silently before nodding again almost imperceptibly, and she flung the door wide.  
"UuuuRrrraaaaahhh!" Rick roared as he bounded through the opening, instantly taking out the terrorist who was busy connecting what appeared to be a gas cylinder to a fitting on the sprinkler system.

There were eight terrorists in the shed, two doing the technical work, and six security troops carrying AK-47s. The security troops should have been outside backing up the sentries, but they had succumbed to the natural tendency to focus more on what they were doing to a hated enemy than on what that enemy might be planning on doing to them. One minute they were laughing and joking about the horror they were unleashing, and the next second three demons erupted in their midst, hellfire blazing from their eyes. It was all over before they had a chance to evaluate the situation.

Rick paused, breathing hard, the smell of burnt powder and hot brass clashing with the stench of death, and burning the back of his throat with each inhalation. His ears rang from the muzzle blasts of un-silenced weapons in the confined space. He could barely hear his own voice as he scanned the room and called "Clear!" Answering calls from the two women drew his attention in their direction. Both were still standing, for which he breathed a quick silent prayer of thanks. Hayley gave him a wan smile as she let her right arm and the carbine dangle loosely by her side. "I can't believe we got away with it"

Kate was still in the position she had been in when she fired her last shot, seemingly in shock. Rick walked over to her and said gently, "Agent Beckett, secure your weapon." The sheer calmness and familiarity of the command broke the spell that had paralyzed her. She raked a trembling hand through her hair and set the safety on her carbine before slinging it over her shoulder and turning to face the other two. "I've been thinking that I was a pretty kick-ass agent since I graduated from the academy, but now I've seen kick-ass, and, boy was I wrong."

The look she gave Rick was too complex for him to unpack reliably on the fly, but it felt oddly encouraging.

"Let's get out of here and decompress for a minute." Rick made a subtle shooing motion towards the door. The women needed little encouragement to leave the abattoir behind and preceded him through the open door.

He cleared his throat, hesitating briefly. "Just a suggestion…" They turned, eyebrows lifted identically. "Maybe you should get dressed before we get on with it." They both laughed and Kate even teased. "What's the matter, the professor can't handle it?"

"I can handle it just fine, but there's going to be a lot of other folks piling in here shortly, and I would hate to have a helicopter crash or anything."

"Valid point, let's go Kate." The women hurried around gathering up discarded clothing, returning to the golf cart with an armful each. As they started to get dressed, Hayley felt it necessary to instruct Rick, who was sitting in the front seat of the cart conspicuously facing away from them. "Don't peek, Professor!"

Rick grinned to himself. Too late. Then to the women, "One thing, though?"

"Yes?"

"Since I've seen you naked and all, do you think you could call me Rick?"

Hayley chuckled, "I think that can be arranged"

Kate thought for a second "I'll try, but no promises. Okay, Prof… er, Rick, what now?" "We now have a crime scene that most likely contains some remaining WMD. So we need to secure that without compromising any evidence. I'm going back in to make sure everything is stable. Why don't you two nose around and see if there's any indication of how these mutts got here. But be careful, there may still be more."

"Okay, Doc…Profe….I mean, Rick." Kate motioned to Hayley and led the way into the trees behind the maintenance shed.  
The scene in the shed was just as bad as he remembered. His keen eyes did a quick sweep of the interior as he approached the sprinkler manifold. Damn, those girls are good! Each of their targets had a bullet hole perfectly centered on the sternum. There were only six empty casings from the terrorists AK47s visible. No wonder none of us was even scratched, they hardly got off a shot, he exulted. At the manifold, there were four green-painted metal cylinders, about the size of a scuba tank, lying on their sides on the floor. He hefted one gingerly—empty. These must be the containers for the nerve agent. There were four more cylinders standing upright, those painted red. He noticed that the seals on the threaded neck were intact, indicating that they hadn't been used.

This must be phase four, and God alone knew what might be in them. Rick had been half expecting to find a nuclear device, so he uttered his second quick prayer of thanks that morning.

Leaving the shed, he immediately saw the two agents striding toward him, looking awfully pleased with themselves. Kate reported, "There are two SUVs back in the trees, and it looks like that's how they transported the weapons."

"Great job. Now I've got to make some phone calls." He scrolled through his contact list and selected one. The person who answered was obviously distraught.  
"He can't come to the phone right now, there's some kind of crisis, and people are dying and…."

"Now listen to me," Rick interrupted in a voice that insisted on calm. "Tell the governor that Rick Castle is on the phone and I'm declaring Case Omega. Can you do that for me?"

Hayley and Kate exchanged startled looks. "He has the governor on speed-dial!" Hayley mouthed silently. Kate just nodded, speechless.

In less than a minute, they heard the unmistakable drawl of Richard Stoddard, governor of Florida, emanate from the speaker of Rick's phone. "Rick, I sure hope you can shed some light on what's going on down there, 'cause no one else seems to have a clue—and what's this nonsense about Case Omega? You don't have the authority to do that!"  
"Rich, I just used that to get your staff's attention. There's been a terrorist attack using WMD." Rick continued talking for several minutes, giving the governor the critical information necessary to start mobilizing the state's resources. He finished up with a specific question. "Does the Florida Guard have any NBC recon and decontamination units?" Another voice came over the phone. "Rick, this is Walter, and we have two companies, one in Tallahassee, and one in Davie. They'll be on the road within eight hours."

"Walter, I have unidentified WMD lying around loose here. If your boys and girls aren't in the air within an hour, I will personally come up to Tallahassee and whup your ass. Now roll the Strykers onto a C-17. Fly 'em into MacDill and drive over. Get moving!"

The next voice was the governor's. "Rick. Did you have to threaten Walter like that?"

"I never threaten, Rich; I just state probabilities and certainties."

"Sometimes I wish I'd known ahead of time what I was getting into when I signed off on your appointment to the University." The sigh was audible over the speaker. "Now what is the current location of the terrorists who pulled this off?"

Rick grinned savagely. "Well if there's any justice in this universe, they're somewhere between the seventh and eighth circles of hell."

"What…?"

"They're dead, Rich."

"How…you did it, didn't you?"

"Rich, the naked truth is that I had a little help from my team of commandos."

The two women smiled and fist bumped each other at that remark.

"Anything else you need, Rick?" the governor queried.

"Maybe a rifle company to secure the site where I am now. I need to get on with identifying the unused weapons, and I obviously can't leave until this site is secure."

"Okay, I'll try to calm Walter down enough to cut the order. Call me if you find anything new."

"Good deal, Rich, thanks"

Kate beat Hayley to the question they were both dying to ask: "Who the heck is Walter?"

Rick looked up puzzled, "Walter Morton, the Adjutant General"

Hayley burst out laughing. "Let me get this straight Rick. You just threatened to 'whup the ass' of the commanding general of the whole Florida National Guard?"

"Yes, do you see a problem with that?"

"No, no, not at all, just thinking about what kind of alternate universe I find myself in where college professors blow away terrorists and threaten governors, and—most impressive of all—they get away with it."

Rick sighed. "It's kind of a long story."

"We've got a while," Kate coaxed. "You said it yourself; we can't leave until the weapons are secured."

"Let me make one more call, and then I'll answer some of your questions." He touched the screen of his phone and spoke. "This is Rick Castle, is her majesty busy?"

Hayley and Kate traded looks of pure astonishment. "He has the queen on speed dial!"

Rick lowered the phone and laughed, "You two are so easy."

Kate threw her water bottle at him, which he caught handily, as Hayley informed him, "Try that again, and I'll tell her about the hickey!"

"Hickey? What hickey?"

Rick just shook his head and touched the screen again. "Hello, Jordan. I'm fine. Yes, I have two of your minions here who are getting kind of inquisitive. Okay. I'll put you on speaker."

He touched the screen again, activating the conference feature, and the voice of a woman came through clearly, the aura of authority patently obvious. "Which two minions would you be referring to, Rick?"

"Agents Beckett and Shipton."

"Ah, Agent Beckett, congratulations on your promotion, and Agent Shipton, I've heard very good things about you. I've been following your exploits this morning and I must say that I'm proud of you, very good work.  
"How... How did…uh…what?" was about the most coherence Kate could manage. She had heard that voice before and she suddenly realized that Jordan was her ultimate boss, Jordan Shaw, the Attorney General of the United States. Hayley just swallowed and made no effort to speak.

"What's the matter Rick, cat got their tongues?" Jordan chuckled softly.  
"Maybe it's just a terminal case of hero worship," he replied grinning.

Kate regained her composure first. "Ma'am, I'm just surprised to speak to you in person, and I was puzzled by what you meant when you said you were following us this morning?"

"I have been receiving the video from the Valkyrie drone since the incident started."

Kate looked at Rick, an expression of concern growing as quickly as her blush was spreading. "So that means you saw…?"

"Your Victoria's Secret moment? Of course we saw the whole thing, and a most effective diversion it was, too."

"Oh my G..." Kate's face went full tomato red.

Jordan interrupted. "Agents Beckett and Shipton, you undoubtedly saved thousands of lives, and I consider you a credit to the Bureau."

"Thank you, ma'am" they both responded.

Jordan continued. "Now, what is this inquisitiveness that Rick was referring to?" Kate chose to answer for both. "We're sorry, ma'am, but we're just curious about dozens of mysteries that have popped up around him in the last couple of days, that don't make sense on the surface, and it's not our job to be comfortable with mysteries, and then we have a horrific terrorist attack and a college physics professor goes all Sergeant York on us and…"

Jordan interrupted, chuckling. "Okay, okay. Rick can fill you in on some of his background, but I think a fuller explanation needs to wait for a more secure location and a more relaxed atmosphere. I promise you that within a couple of weeks you'll know everything you need to know. Fair enough?"

"Yes ma'am, fair enough," both responded as they braced to attention. Rick smiled. Jordan had that effect on people.

"One more thing, ladies. Until our future meeting, let me say that you should treat anything Rick says as if it came straight from me. He has my complete and total confidence. Good day, ladies, and, once again, you did the Bureau proud today."

"So long, Jordan." Rick responded and terminated the call. He looked from Kate to Hayley and back to Kate. "What would you like to know?"

Kate pulled rank. "Me first. Are you a real college professor, or is that some kind of cover…or what?"

"Well, there are probably at least a thousand students over the last fifteen years who would vouch for the fact that I am indeed a real college professor, but I understand your question. Let me start at the beginning. I was always interested in science, especially physics. I wanted to go to the best college I could, but my Mom couldn't afford to pay for my education, so I applied for and got a Navy ROTC scholarship to MIT." "During my first summer cruise I was exposed to the Marines and was totally blown away. I loved the kind of hands-on leadership they encouraged and the spirit, the esprit de corps. So I declared for the Marines and spent my junior summer at the Marine Officers Candidate School at Quantico, which you two are familiar with from the FBI academy.

I graduated second in my class, and apparently someone was impressed enough that they offered me the chance to go to Recon school at Little Creek, Virginia after I graduated from MIT. So I went straight on to Recon School and went from there to a tour with the 1st Marine Expeditionary Brigade.  
Saw some combat that I can't really talk about, but at the end of that tour they offered me the opportunity to go to Ranger school. That was the hardest time of my life, because they really trashed us, but I learned that I had strength that I didn't even know that I had and made it through."

He paused and found that the women were listening with rapt attention, leaning forward with their chins resting on their hands and their elbows on their knees. "Don't stop now, it's just getting good," Kate prompted.

"Well, after I got out of Ranger school, I did two tours in Bosnia as a Force Recon Platoon Leader. They say war is hell, and Bosnia didn't do anything to invalidate that statement. I did some crazy scary things that I still sometimes have nightmares about."

Both women tried to imagine what could have been so crazy scary that a man like Rick Castle would still have nightmares fifteen years later. They failed miserably.

"In early '95 a Marine Harrier was shot down and the pilot captured by the worst of the Serb units. Intelligence indicated that the pilot was being tortured to sign a statement that NATO was using chemical and biological weapons against the Serbs. It was decided to rescue him, but the area where he was being held was crawling with Serb troops and was covered in depth by SAMS and AAA. So a helicopter assault would have been doomed.

A special Ops team going in on the ground would have been detected quickly, too. So, to make a long story short, I went in by myself. I had reconned the area before, so I was familiar with it."  
Hayley saw that Kate was now looking at the man with something approaching awe. "Did you get him out?" Kate asked next.

"Barely. It took me three days to get in and a week and a half to get back out. " He shivered. "I got shot in the leg in the rescue, and it got infected, almost lost it." He paused for a healthy swig of water.

Hayley seized the opportunity. "Is that where you got the Silver Star?"

"One of 'em."

"Did you have to quit the Marines?"

"Technically no, I was placed on reserve and took the opportunity to go to Caltech to get a doctorate on Uncle Sam. I ended up taking an extra eighteen months and got a second doctorate, this time in biochemistry. Next Hayley entered the discussion. "You had a set of pilot wings in your badge holder, where did they come in?"  
"I was just getting to that." Rick gave her his signature lopsided grin. "I'd always wanted to learn to fly, so while I was at Cal Tech I took lessons and got a pilot's license. When I finished at Cal Tech, I had a decision to make: stay in the reserves and find something else to do for a living, probably in academe, or go back on active duty with the Marines.

I really missed the Corps and wanted desperately to go back, but because of the injury, I couldn't quite pass the physical requirements for Recon, and I didn't want to take an admin billet. Administration is not my strong suit." He paused for a second to clear his throat, the memory still a dull ache.

"So what did you do?" Kate asked gently.

"Do you know what an Osprey is?"

Kate shook her head negative, but Hayley vaguely recalled something she had heard or read.

"Some kind of cross between a helicopter and a plane. Isn't it?"

"That's actually pretty close. It's a tilt rotor, takes off, lands, and hovers like a helicopter but flies like an airplane. The Marines were in the process of developing it as a replacement for helicopters, and I pulled some strings to be assigned to the development team. I was actually one of the first class of pilots to train on the Osprey. That's where the flight wings came from."

"When was this, time-wise?"

"2000."

"What next?" Hayley prompted.

"That's still classified. I think that will have to wait for our future talk, nothing to do with the two of you, just some external obstacles that will go away in the next couple of weeks, okay?"

Kate spoke up. "Sure Rick. We're curious, not fanatic."

Hayley raised her hand for attention. "My turn!"

Rick nodded. "Go ahead."

"How do you know the AG?"

Rick seemed to weigh his response for a bit longer than normal for him. "Jordan was my defense counsel once…a while back."

"Wait, you were arrested…?"

"Not exactly, and the rest of that story properly belongs in that future talk category. Suffice it to say that we've been through hell together, and we've been friends ever since."

Rick looked back to Kate, his eyebrow quirked up as if to say, your turn.

"What was that thing that took out the sniper?"

"Thor's hammer."

"But what's that?"

"Thor was the God of thunder in Norse Mythology…"

"I know who Thor is, I saw the movie, and I don't want to know what it's called," Kate was starting to get a little annoyed, and Hayley was hiding a smile with her hand. "I want to know what it IS."

"Do you know what antimatter is, Agent Beckett?"

"Why, yes, I did take some science classes in college, and I saw every episode of Star Trek."

"Good," Rick approved. "Thor's hammer involves bringing pieces of antimatter, in this case about the size of a BB, into contact with normal matter, in this case a sniper, resulting in instantaneous annihilation of the matter and release of a large amount of energy."

Hayley interrupted, "But how did you keep the antimatter away from normal matter until you used it on the sniper?"

"Excellent question!" Rick smiled in approval. "If I give you the answer, though, I'd have to shoot you."

Hayley kept the ball rolling, "What's with the title on your badge?"

"Inspector General?"

She nodded.

"Well, it keeps me from having to answer embarrassing questions about why I'm packing automatic weapons and other things not particularly socially acceptable. If anyone bothered to check, they would find that it is roughly equivalent to a Deputy Director with the Bureau, so people tend to do things when I ask nicely.

If you wanted to see one of my incarnations as being Jordanna's personal troubleshooter, then you wouldn't be too far off."

Hayley rubbed her temples vigorously as if a headache was brewing. "Wow, Rick, you sure seem to get around."

He gave her his patented grin. "You have no idea."

Kate caught his glance and blurted out the question she'd really wanted answered from the beginning. "Who is Vienna? Hayley told me while you were in the woods that you called someone named Vienna to get the antidote delivered?" She hated herself for being afraid of his answer.

Rick's smile increased. "Vienna is Vienna Wong Takayoshi, and the simple answer is that she runs the Orion Institute."

"I thought you were the director of the Institute?" Hayley questioned.

"I am, at least on paper, but she really runs things. I told you earlier that administration is not my strong suit. But just running the Institute is a relatively minor part of what she does. Unfortunately, the rest of that will have to wait for that future talk."

Kate couldn't restrain herself. "You told her you loved her, are you…?"

Rick gave her a hard look "Are we romantically involved, you mean, Agent Beckett? I'm not sure it's any of your business, but it's a simple question with a simple answer. No, we are not romantically involved. Vienna is very happily married and has two wonderful children, for whom I have the distinct honor of standing as godfather. I can say that I love her as I have loved few others in my life, but more as a sister on steroids than anything else. We have been through a lot together and have a bond that is very difficult to describe. And that's enough said about that."

Kate blushed and stammered, "I'm sor—"

"No need to apologize, Agent Beckett. No harm, no foul."

Kate's phone buzzed angrily. She held it to her ear and listened for a few seconds frowning. "I'm sorry I haven't checked in, Roy, but I have been rather busy." She listened some more. "Well, I have ten dead terrorists, the location where they introduced the nerve agent into the water system, and four containers of unused WMD are under our control." She listened some more.

"Yes, sir, we need a CSU team here, and I'll get back to the command post ASAP. Yes, sir, I will, I'm leaving now." She ended the call. "Sorry guys, but I have to report back to the command post. I'll get back as soon as I can."

"Take the cart," Rick urged and Hayley waved her on. Kate nodded, jumped in the cart, and disappeared down the path in the direction of the clubhouse. 


	17. Chapter 17

Rick pointed to a nearby weather shelter. "Since our seats just disappeared over the horizon, what do you say we move our party over there?"

"Works for me." Hayley sauntered over to the shelter and seated herself on the bench, Rick following close behind. They sat for a few minutes in companionable silence, each lost in their thoughts.

They both turned to speak at the same moment, triggering laughter.

"You first," Rick offered.

Hayley steeled herself for this important task. "I saw how you were looking at Kate."

Rick tried to think of an excuse to sneak away, because he had absolutely not expected this conversation. On second thought, sneaking away probably wouldn't work; Hayley would probably just shoot him in his good leg. So, he did the next best thing, he answered her implied question with an actual question. "What do you mean, 'looking at Kate'?" Great Rick, is that the best you could come up with?

"I mean that you look at her differently than you look at me, for example." Hayley explained patiently. "You weren't just admiring, you were analyzing, appraising, measuring…I don't know the right word to convey what I'm trying to say."

"Actually, you said it rather well," Rick allowed, "and rather accurately." He decided suddenly that if fortune does indeed favor the bold, then boldness was called for. "Hayley, that first day when I came to the Bureau and I looked into her eyes, I felt an immediate connection, like we had something in the past and it got lost and now it was back. But, I can't for the life of me think of when or where we ever met before." "Yesss!" she pumped her fist in front of her face. "I knew it!"

Rick decided he was already in so deep that he might as well just keep swimming. "Is Kate in a relationship?"

Hayley shook her head sadly. "No, Rick, she isn't in a relationship, because she doesn't like men."

Rick's stomach dropped with that feeling he imagined most people get when the doctor walks in with the X-rays and uses the C word.

"Does that mean that…?" He barely got out the words.

Hayley reached for his hand, her expression softening. "No, no, nothing like that. She doesn't like women either. Damn, I'm just making this worse. Can I have a do–over?"

"Please." His heart rate increased, a vein throbbing in his neck.

"Kate was raped by her boyfriend in law school, and there was an earlier incident that must have been absolutely horrific. I don't know the details, but it scarred her terribly, and she was just getting control of it when the law school thing happened. When I said she doesn't like men, it would have been more accurate to say that she has serious trust issues with men. She's about as heterosexual as it's possible to be, she just won't let anyone get close to her. As far as I know the closest thing to her bed since law school has been her Glock on the nightstand."

Rick was stunned. "Is that why she reacted so violently when I grabbed her when we took out the sniper?"

"Yep, anything beyond a handshake tends to trigger a fight or flight response; and Kate being Kate, it's more often fight than it is flight!"

Rick chuckled. "I can believe that. She is a feisty one, isn't she?"

"You have no idea." Hayley studied him intensely for half a minute. "Rick, not that it's any of my business, but are you in a relationship?"

"Hayley, I haven't been in a relationship in fifteen years."

Now it was Hayley's turn to appear stunned. "Let me get this straight, you haven't been with a woman in fifteen years?"

Rick smiled at her look of consternation. "I didn't say I hadn't been with a woman, I said I haven't been in a relationship. Believe it or not, there are such things as physics groupies."

Hayley looked skeptical. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, there was this Swedish supermodel in the elevator at the hotel in Stockholm after the Nobel Prize ceremony, and…well, that's enough about that." He paused and considered the thrust of the conversation for a few seconds. "Are you matchmaking?"

"Noooo…well, maybe." She turned to face him directly, took a deep breath, and said, "Kate is my best friend, and as long as I've known her she's been unhappy, mostly I think because she has can't seem to enter into a relationship. First and foremost, I want you to know enough about her issues that you won't hurt her even more…"

Rick stiffened and stated with utter sincerity, "I would never knowingly hurt any woman, especially not Kate."

"What about all the physics groupies?"

"They all got what they wanted, and I can say with all due modesty that they all left happy."

Hayley rolled her eyes. "As I was saying, you better not hurt her, 'cause if you do, I'll shoot you, and she'll help me dispose of the body. However, if in the course of events, you were able to convince me that you would help her to be happy? Then yes, I would be matchmaking."

"Does it seem a little surreal that we're having this conversation?"

"Jeez, Professor, is there anything about today that isn't surreal?"

"Valid point."

When the sound of approaching vehicles interrupted further conversation, they both stood, unslinging their weapons just in case. However, they saw that the precaution was unnecessary when a black Tahoe, leading a black panel van with the letters CSU on the side came into view.

Hayley stepped forward and waved to get their attention; and she and Rick strode to meet them as the vehicles stopped near the maintenance shed. Hayley quickly briefed the team leader about the crime scene, and two of the techs headed out to process the SUVs while the rest of the team entered the maintenance shed. After impressing on the team leader that under no circumstances were the red-painted cylinders to be touched, Rick decided to get out of the way and wandered back to the shade afforded by the weather shelter.

He was sitting, lost in thought when Hayley appeared at his elbow. "Rick, I think you need to see this."

He looked up. "What is it?"

"The techs found something in one of the SUVs." She shuddered slightly. "I told them not to touch it until you looked at it."

"Okay, let's go." He stood and followed the woman as she retraced her steps to where the terrorists had concealed their cars. Both techs were standing at the rear of one of the vehicles, next to a raised lift gate, and Rick walked up to the opening. "What do you have, guys?"

The older of the two techs pointed under the rear seat and Rick bent to look, immediately spotting a small stainless steel cylinder about two inches in diameter and eight inches long, with a valve and threaded fitting at each end. He studied it for a moment and looked up to see Hayley offering him a pair of gloves. He smiled his thanks and quickly snapped them on. He looked at the two techs "You guys going to get all freaked out if I retrieve it?"

"No, sir," the older of the two answered. "Agent Beckett said you're in charge."

"All right, then." He leaned forward and grasped the cylinder gently, then pulled it slowly until it was completely visible. He carefully rolled it over, checking for a label or other identifying mark, only to come up empty. "Damn, you'd think they would be more respectful and put a label on these things, wouldn't you?" He straightened up and addressed the three. "This is what's called a gas sampling cylinder. It's generally used to collect samples of gas for later analysis. It's also used to transport small volumes of gas via air freight."

"Any idea what might be in it?' Hayley queried.

"I have lots of ideas about what might be in it, most of which are downright scary. As to what's actually in it, I have no idea. I think we need to get it to the Institute ASAP, because my Spidey senses are tingling, and I have a feeling that this little guy may just be the worst news of the bunch. I think we'll send one of the red cylinders as well. We'll have an ID for these puppies by this afternoon. If we send it to Washington, it would take at least a week. We may not have a week."

Hayley agreed. "That makes sense. Besides, the AG said you're the boss. How are you going to get it there?"

"The best way to get anything done." He grinned. "Call Vienna!" He extracted his phone and placed the call. "Hey, girl. Yeah, I'm fine. You are extraordinary, you know that, right? Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know I've only told you that at least thirty thousand times, but it's still true."

After Vienna got the worry and concern out of her system, Rick managed to reach the point of the call. "We have two samples that are likely biological, or chemical weapons of some type that need to be analyzed ASAP. No, as far as we know neither of these were actually used. You're right; we have no clue what might be in there. … Yeah, I agree, full Level 5 NBC protocol. … Okay, Skip can pick up Chooser 1 on the way in; I don't think we'll need her anymore today. Oh, and send Javier and a security team with Skip. Can't be too careful these days." He ended the call and turned to Hayley. "The chopper will be here in about fifteen minutes; I want to transfer the small cylinder and one of the red ones to the Institute."

Hayley nodded. "Like I said, you're the boss. Are you going with them?"

"No, I'm going to stay with the other cylinders until they are secured. It'll be a couple of hours before the Institute will be ready to do the actual tests"

"Who's Skip?" Hayley asked, "And why do you need a security team?"

"Skip is the regular pilot for the Institute's helicopter. He's the guy who brought the antidotes this morning, and Vienna had him deploy Chooser 1, the Valkyrie drone, on his way out. So he can pick her up on the way in to pick up the cylinders. Can't just leave her hovering around, she might get into trouble." He winked.

Then he turned serious again. "As far as the security team is concerned, I guess I'm just paranoid. I have this vision of the chopper suffering engine failure on the way back and having to make an emergency landing, and some junkie boosting a cylinder of nerve gas and selling it for drugs."

"That's a happy thought," Hayley chuckled. "So, Javier is one of your security guards?"

"Javier Esposito is actually head of security for the Institute, and about as far from a security guard as it's possible to get. He's also an ex-Marine. We go back a ways."

As if on cue, they heard the whine of an approaching helicopter, and shortly thereafter, the aircraft itself appeared over the trees. The gleaming blue and gold Sikorsky S76D came to a hover 100 meters overhead.

After a couple of minutes, Hayley could no longer contain her curiosity. "Rick, what's he doing?"

Rick glanced upward from the text message he was composing. "He's recovering the Valkyrie drone. Should be ready to land in just a minute or so." He finished his message and pocketed his phone. "Just giving all the suits an update."

Sure enough, the helicopter began to descend, settling onto its landing gear about fifty meters from the maintenance shed. The passenger door opened and three men in black utilities alighted and strode purposefully toward Rick and Hayley.

She studied them then cast a worried glance at him. The three men radiated an air of deadly competence and controlled violence that would have chilled the marrow of a serial killer. They slung their weapons as they approached, the leader giving Hayley the once-over while he walked up to Rick. The two clasped forearms.

Hayley scanned the three, cataloging what she observed, but she found herself focusing on the leader. What a hunk. She guessed that he was an inch or so shorter than she, even without her heels. Some of the men she had dated had been intimidated by her height, but she doubted much of anything would intimidate this one. His frame was solid and muscular, and he moved with the grace of a hunting leopard, all power and menace. She wondered idly whether he or Rick would win an arm wrestling match. Pretty much a toss-up. "Rick, you always have all the fun," the man chided.

"If there was any fun around here today, I seem to have missed it."

The newcomer turned slightly to face Hayley, giving her a megawatt smile. "Javier Esposito ma'am, and what could be anything other than fun with such a beautiful lady for company?"

Hayley offered her hand, an uncharacteristic shyness making her grin like a silly clown. "Special Agent Hayley Shipton." The handshake lasted a bit longer than was absolutely necessary. Rick coughed and turned away to address the two men who had accompanied Andy. "Sean, you and Gregor follow me. We'll go get the cargo while Agent Shipton briefs Andy on the situation."

The two men returned his smirk with barely perceptible ones of their own and followed Rick to the maintenance shed. They returned shortly with one of the two carrying a red cylinder a bit gingerly, and the other being equally careful with the small cylinder. Javier waved them toward the helicopter and followed after saying goodbye to Hayley. As he strode away, she noticed a slight limp. "I wonder how that happened."

"How what happened, the limp?" Hayley had not realized that she had voiced her thought aloud, or that Rick had rejoined her.

"Yeah, I didn't mean to be nosy, just curious."

"It's okay; he was wounded in action, occupational hazard. Doesn't slow him down any that I've noticed. It's the wounds that you can't see that are the worst."

Hayley wondered briefly whether the wounds he was referring to were Javier's or his own. Probably both. "Did you two serve together?"

The roar of turbine engines temporarily postponed his answer as the helicopter lifted off and disappeared heading west.

"Yeah, we were in the same class at Quantico. Do you remember that I told you I graduated second in my class?" She nodded. "Javier was first. I always thought if things had worked out differently that he would've been one of the greatest combat commanders ever."

"Were you there when it happened? His getting wounded I mean?"

Rick thought it was kind of interesting how much curiosity Hayley was showing about Javier, not that it bothered him. Javier was a good man, one of the best, and Rick had been very impressed with Hayley in the short time he had known her. If there was something there, it just might mean that the universe's storehouse of desperately lonely people would be depleted minutely. "Yeah, I was there. It was pretty rough." She could tell that it had been a lot worse than rough, but didn't pry, even though she was rabidly curious.

They both sat silently, heads slightly bowed, their individual thoughts occupying their full attention; Rick thinking about Bandar Deylam, and Hayley's eyes following the disappearing helicopter. A few minutes later, a small sound and a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision captured his attention.  
Hayley quickly straightened and smiled widely, looking over Rick's shoulder, "Well, sheeeee's baaaack."

Kate approached in the cart. As he moved to stand, Hayley placed her hand on his arm, gently restraining. "Rick, whatever you felt, she felt it too, and she's just as mystified. Remember, if you hurt her, or tell her we had this talk, I will shoot you."

He nodded calmly, then stood and walked to the cart as Kate alighted. She looked pretty stressed, a furrow planted between her brows. "Well Agent Beckett —"

Kate interrupted, "If I have to call you Rick, then the least you can do is call me Kate."

He was surprised that his pulse rate jumped for a second as she spoke, but tried to cover it with a serious observation. "Helluva day."

She nodded unenthusiastically. "Yeah, a helluva day."

"I take it the Powers That Be back at the command post were not shouting hosannas and singing anthems of praise?"

"You got that right." She forced a smile. "They were mostly shouting accusations and singing the blues about how little information they have." She gave him a pained look. "I got some pointed questions about a quote 'thunderbolt from Hell'. They seemed to think I had something to do with it."

Rick struggled with laughter. "What did you tell them?"

"I told them it was probably a CIA thing and that we should just forget about it."

Rick and Hayley both lost the battle with laughter. Kate even smiled briefly at the memory. "Anyway, I'm now the lead investigator for this incident, and Sam expects results yesterday." She looked at Rick "I got a little flack over your decision to have the two cylinders analyzed at the Institute."

"I was afraid you might," he admitted. "How did you handle it?"

"I told Roy that I was working under direct orders from the AG."

"And then?"

"He called the Director to complain and basically got an ass-chewing for 'thwarting the wishes' of the Attorney General. I get the impression that the Director is a little afraid of your girlfriend the AG."

Rick laughed. "If he knows what's good for him, he will be afraid and stay that way. Jordan is not a person that you want to piss off. She's not mean, but if you mess with her, she can make a mama grizzly look like a cuddly little bunny."

"You don't seem to be much afraid of her," Kate observed.

"That's because my mama didn't raise any dummies. I'm on her side to the last drop of blood, and she knows it. Plus, I make it a point not to mess with her."

Kate and Hayley shared a glance. She wondered about a woman that could inspire that kind of loyalty. Kate felt a twinge of jealousy; why did she only seem to attract guys that failed her ass test. Why couldn't a guy as incredible as Rick Castle be attracted to her, show her that kind of loyalty? Wait a minute, she cringed. Did I just think of Rick and 'incredible guy' in the same context? Probably just another 'put out or get out' guy like all the rest. She forced her thoughts back to the investigation "Rick, would it be okay if Hayley and I observe the testing on the cylinders?"

"Sure, that won't be a problem. I know the boss."

Hooonnnnkkk The penetrating blast of an air horn grabbed their attention, and all three spun toward the sound as a procession of vehicles drove into view from the south. In the lead were three Humvees, followed by three green-painted heavy trucks. Three additional Humvees brought up the rear.

An officer in camo BDUs hopped out of the lead vehicle and strode toward the three as the convoy came to a halt. His gaze scanned the three as he approached, lingering for a few extra heartbeats on the two women, almost as if the sight of beautiful women with body armor and automatic carbines was not an everyday experience. His gaze met Rick's and he straightened. "I'm looking for General Castle"

Hayley choked and Kate hid her smile by turning away for a second.

Rick, however, didn't bat an eye. "I'm Castle."

The young officer snapped to attention and saluted. "Major Koch, 51st MP Battalion, reporting for duty, sir."

Rick returned the salute, "What do you know about your mission, Major?"

"Not much, sir. The governor just said that if you were not totally satisfied with our execution of this mission that we'd spend the rest of our enlistments on the side of the road holding a stick with a nail in the end and a garbage bag picking up litter."

"Well, major, let's see if we can avoid the necessity of changing your job description. You see that maintenance building?" Rick nodded in its direction.

"Yes, sir."

"There are unexpended WMD in there, and I need an airtight security perimeter around that building for as long as it takes to sort everything out. Can you handle that?"

"Yes, sir!" The major turned toward the vehicles and gave a quick hand signal. The next second, combat-armed troopers were pouring out of the trucks and spreading out to take up positions that covered every approach to the shed.

Rick nodded in approval. Not bad for weekend warriors. "Where'd you and your boys and girls come from, Major?"

"Well, sir, this is two platoons of our Bravo Company. Its home is Bartow. The third platoon will be along shortly, bringing the company's MOPP gear. The rest of the battalion is headquartered in Sarasota. They'll be here by midnight."  
"Very impressive, Major. That's better than I expected. Pass a 'well done' along to your troops."

"Thank you, sir, I will." The young major visibly drew himself up. "Would it be permitted to ask the General a couple of questions, sir?

"Of course, Major, fire away. I think I can anticipate one of your questions by introducing these two ladies. Major Koch, these are Special Agents Beckett and Shipton of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. They took down the terrorists responsible for the attack. Agent Beckett is the lead investigator. What else could I clear up for you, Major?"

"Sir, you're not in uniform. Would it be impolite to inquire as to your branch of service?"

"Marines, Major. And it's never impolite to gather intel that can help you complete your mission."

"Thank you, sir. So it's official that this was a terrorist attack?"

Hayley spoke up then. "There are at least ten bodies within fifty meters of where we stand, if you need visual confirmation."

"Uh, no, ma'am, not necessary, it just seems hard to believe." The major's color definitely went a shade lighter at that revelation.

Rick motioned to the major to follow him to the maintenance shed "Come with me, major, and I'll quickly brief you. The ladies and I have to leave in a while." They walked to the maintenance shed and disappeared inside.

Kate was just as happy that Rick was going this one alone, as she had no burning desire to ever see the results of the terrorists' handiwork again.

Rick and the major were barely out of earshot when Kate turned to Hayley. "So what did you and Rick talk about while I was gone?"

"What makes you think we talked about anything?"

"Cause I know you, and you spent almost two hours alone with one of the most intriguing people I've ever met!"

"So you think the professor is intriguing, do you?"

Kate cringed. "Did I say that out loud?'

"Yep. Loud and clear." Hayley grinned wickedly "If you think that what you already know about the professor is intriguing, you are in for a major shock. There are a lot of layers to that onion."

"Did you give him the 'I'll shoot you if you hurt her' speech?"

"Yep."

"And?"

"Didn't turn a hair."

"Wow, that's never happened before. Who is that masked man?"

"Don't know, but bet your sweet ass we're going to find out."

Kate noticed Rick and Major Koch approaching and motioned to Hayley. They both stood. The major nodded respectfully. "Ladies. General, with your permission, I'll get on with it." He saluted, and Rick returned it crisply.

"Carry on, Major."

The major hurried away to see to his troops. Rick turned to the women. "Vienna just texted me. Lainey has the analyses set up and ready to run. Our ride should be here any minute."

Shortly the helicopter appeared over the trees and turned into the wind. "Ahh, here we go!" The sleek helicopter descended, finally relaxing onto its landing gear, about fifty yards from Rick and the two women. The pilot kept the rotors turning as Rick led his charges to the passenger door. They walked bent over, more out of reflex than any real danger from the spinning rotor. He unlatched the door and bowed, waving them forward ostentatiously, "Your carriage awaits miladies."

Kate had to laugh as they climbed into the cabin and settled themselves on the aft-facing seats. His humor was becoming familiar to her. That was a bit disturbing. Rick followed, pulling the door shut and taking a seat across from them, facing forward.

The intercom buzzed softly. "Yes, Skip?" Rick responded.

"Good to see you're okay, sir, you had us worried for a while there. Miss Vienna was getting a bit testy."

"Thanks, Skip. You guys ready?" He checked to make sure that his associates had buckled themselves in. "Looks like we're ready to go now."

"All good," Kate said.

The rotors began to pick up speed and the sleek craft quivered as if in anticipation before lifting smoothly and banking into a gentle turn to the west then accelerating to cruising speed.

Kate ran her fingers over the buttery softness of the seat upholstery, and her gaze lingered briefly on the genuine wood burl trim as she took in the elegant ambiance of the cabin. "Nice way to commute."

"Yeeah, I could get used to this," Hayley added appreciatively.

Rick grinned, "And I don't get as many speeding tickets as I do when I take the Ferrari."

After fifteen minutes of flight, the helicopter began to descend, banking slightly to turn into the wind. Kate spotted a covered golf cart waiting just at the edge of the pad. The actual touchdown was hardly noticeable, the landing gear adjusting effortlessly to the surface of the pad. The noise level decreased abruptly as the pilot killed the engines and the rotors started to spin down.  
Rick motioned to the women to unbuckle as the door opened to reveal a middle-aged man in a dark blue flight suit. He offered his hand to Kate as she disembarked. "Skip McCutcheon, ma'am. Pleased to have you aboard." Kate took his hand lightly as she stepped out onto the pad, followed closely by Hayley, who also accepted the proffered assistance with a smile. Rick hopped out and exchanged a casual salute with the pilot before herding them toward the cart. As they approached, the lone driver stepped out. She was young—Kate guessed near her own age—an Asian woman, dressed in a simple but elegant business suit, who radiated an unmistakable aura of dignity and authority. Rick stepped around the two agents and came to a stop about two long paces away from her. He spoke to her briefly in Japanese and they both bowed formally before he closed the gap and gathered her into a crushing hug.

Hayley and Kate exchanged a look that said. Guess we know who that is.

Rick whispered a few last words to Vienna and waved the women forward. "Ladies I'd like you to meet Vienna Takayoshi. Vienna, meet Special Agents Beckett and Shipton of the FBI."

Vienna stepped forward and shook each hand warmly. "Thank you for helping Mr. Rick. We were quite worried for a while."

Kate grinned at her. "The thanks are entirely due in the other direction. I still don't know how you got the antidote there so quickly this morning."

"Thank you." There was an almost samurai nobility to Vienna's bow. "I credit the holy trinity—planning, preparation and practice. That will work if anything will. Shall we go?"


	18. Chapter 18

Kate and Hayley climbed into the back seats, leaving the passenger seat next to Vienna for Rick. Vienna deftly guided the cart down a paved path that led into the trees surrounding the helicopter pad. Soon they left the trees and rolled into a large, immaculately kept open area, Kate gasped in surprise.

"I had no idea," Kate admitted, staring in amazement at the six large structures that stretched into the distance and out of her sight.

Hayley echoed her friend's reaction, "I've lived in this area most of my life, and I've never even suspected that something like this was here!"

Rick and Vienna traded glances before she spoke. "There are good reasons why we don't advertise our presence. I'm sure Rick has that on the agenda to discuss later."

"I don't mean to be unappreciative," Kate huffed, "but, if this mythical 'future talk' ever happens, it better be someplace comfortable, 'cause I gotta whole lotta questions."

"I think you can count on that, Agent Beckett" Vienna smiled. "And here we are."

The structure directly ahead was built in the form of a step pyramid with three levels, each smaller than the one below. Kate estimated that the first level was about two hundred meters on a side. The walls of the first level appeared to be solid stone, while the second and third levels were glass.

For a second Kate held her breath, thinking Vienna was going to drive directly into the wall. But as the cart approached, a twenty-foot wide section of the wall opened inward. The cart rolled silently into a large space, obviously used as a garage, as there were at least ten other vehicles parked along one wall. The space was otherwise featureless except for an elevator door on the wall opposite the vehicles. The door closed silently behind them, and Vienna parked the cart and motioned to the two agents to follow as she headed for the elevator. Rick brought up the rear, a half step behind and to the right of Kate. The doors slid apart as they approached and they entered and turned to face the opening as the doors slid closed and a deep bass voice, one that sounded remarkably like James Earl Jones, greeted them. "Good afternoon, Miss Vienna, I see we have guests. And Doctor Castle, good to see you, sir."

"Yes, Charles, these are Agents Beckett and Shipton of the FBI. Please grant them Level One clearance."

"Doctor Castle?" The voice inquired.

"I concur, Level One clearance."

The voice continued, "Agent Beckett and Agent Shipton of the FBI, please introduce yourselves in your own voices."

After the women spoke, the voice added, "Level One clearance granted."

"Thank you, Charles. Second floor, please." Vienna spoke softly but firmly, and the elevator began to move. Kate turned to Rick. "Why are there no controls?"  
"Security. Non-existent controls can't be tampered with. That's also why Charles asked for my concurrence on granting you clearance."

Hayley interrupted. "What if you were being held hostage or coerced in some way?"

"My voice and other physiological data were being monitored. Any signs of stress or fear would have caused Charles to reject my input."

Kate suddenly realized, "Charles is a computer?"

The voice rumbled, "I heard that, Agent Beckett."

Vienna giggled. "Now, see? You've hurt his feelings."

Hayley decided to pitch in. "Charles, don't pay any attention to her. I think you're kind of cool."

"You are obviously an uncommonly discerning young woman, Agent Shipton. Here we are, second floor. Dr. Parrish is waiting in her lab."

The door slid open, revealing a circular space with a dozen nondescript doors spaced evenly around the perimeter. None was marked or otherwise distinguishable. Vienna led the group toward a door diagonally across from the elevator. It opened at her touch, and the group entered a fifty-foot corridor that ended in a door identical to the one they had just passed through. It slid apart as they approached.

This time they entered a space that was totally different than any other they had seen so far. One wall and the ceiling were glass, letting in gently filtered natural sunlight that nourished the numerous plants gracing the space. An instant brush of warmth and comfort touched Kate as they escaped the stark austerity that had marked the facility so far. There was a cluster of chrome and leather chairs surrounding a chrome and glass coffee table in the center of the space.

Standing across the room next to an open door was a young woman in a crisply starched white lab coat. Her face broke into a huge beaming smile as she saw Rick, "Rick, we were so worried!"  
"Hello, Lainey," Rick strode forward to give her a quick hug. "These two ladies took good care of me." He gestured to indicate Hayley and Kate. "May I introduce Special Agents Beckett and Shipton of the FBI? Ladies, this is Lainey Parrish. She is the Director of Analytical Services here at Orion. She's actually a wizard, but that's classified."

The woman blushed and shook her head at the introduction. Rick gestured to her and grinned. "The University of Toronto was so upset when I stole her for the Institute that they passed an act of parliament having me declared persona non grata for the entire country."

Kate wasn't sure whether to believe that line. She traded glances with Lainey, who merely smiled and nodded ruefully.

"Please follow me," Lainey invited before she turned to pass through the opening into a corridor lined with glass walls on the other three sides. It appeared to be an observation area for the labs that surrounded it. Non-lab personnel and visitors—anyone not directly involved in the examination of the volatile and potentially lethal substances—could monitor everything that occurred in the labs.

Lainey pointed to the right, where the personnel wore what appeared to be orange space suits. "This is our Level 5 containment lab. Since we don't know what is in your cylinders, and considering the source, we're not taking any chances. The cylinders themselves are on the carts just there." She pointed. "They've been CT-scanned to insure that there are no booby traps or anything that would prevent us from analyzing the contents. Do you have any preference as to the order in which we examine them?"

Rick turned to Kate, who shrugged indifference. One was as bad as the other in her mind.

"Then let's do the big one first, save the worst for last," he said.

Vienna said, "How do you know…"

"Just a feeling, Vienna, just a feeling."

Vienna nodded, the corners of her lips turned down. "I've learned to trust your feelings in these matters. Not that it's a comfort."

Lainey made a couple of entries on her tablet, telling her staff that the larger cylinder should be dealt with first. Two Racal-suited technicians moved the cylinder to a sampling manifold and with a minimum of fuss made the connection. One of the two technicians moved to a touch panel on the wall of the lab and made an entry with a gauntleted finger. Telltales on each door in the lab glowed a lurid red. The first technician then opened the valve on the cylinder and the contents began to flow into the manifold.

Lainey looked up and addressed her visitors. "The lab is now 'hot,' and no entrance or exit is possible until the analysis is complete and the lab is decontaminated. The lab is now running my preprogrammed set of analyses. When we get those results, then I will have my staff perform any additional testing that becomes necessary."

"So you can control the entire testing process from the tablet?" Kate stared at the device in awe. These labs made the FBI's Central Crime Lab look like a ten-year-old's Wal-Mart chemistry set.

"That is correct, Agent Beckett, and the results can be displayed there as well. Speaking of results—the contents of the cylinder was not under pressure and is liquid. It is definitely organic. Definitely not another nerve agent or additional agent of the type already used."

"What's the next step?' Hayley asked.

"We're going to prepare a sample for SEM analysis. That'll take a few minutes."

"SEM?"

"Scanning Electron Microscope. We'll magnify it around fifty to a hundred thousand times and take a look. Should help us narrow it down."

For the next fifteen minutes the FBI agents received a crash course in the capabilities of the lab that left Kate reeling. She felt almost light-headed at the thought of how cavalierly she had treated Rick's offer of a partnership between Orion and the Bureau. She gave herself a brief, albeit stern, lecture on the subject of never again underestimating Rick Castle or his organization.

As Kate's silent lecture wound down, Lainey's tablet chimed softly and she studied it intently. After a few seconds, she silently passed it to Rick, who held it tilted slightly so that Vienna could see it as well. The expressions of the three were decidedly grim as they viewed the screen.

"Is that what I think it is?" Lainey broke the silence. Rick and Vienna nodded.

Kate cleared her throat discreetly, and Rick motioned her and Hayley over, turning the tablet so that they could see the screen. This meant nothing, as neither of the two had any training whatsoever in microbiology. The screen showed a spiky sphere that looked like someone had driven dozens of nails through a soccer ball from the inside out. Kate raised an eyebrow slightly at Rick in silent query.

"It's a virus, Kate," Rick said. A cold sheen of sweat popped on his forehead. "And unless I miss my guess, it's the virus that causes a disease called Lassa fever."

He slowly handed the tablet back to Lainey, his mind swirling with the dread implications of this finding.

Lainey immediately started making entries. "I'll map its genome, type it, and get Dr. Chillicothe over to confirm our identification. I assume you'll want to know its life history?"

"You assume correctly—as usual," Rick said."

"It will take a while to do the RNA map, and I for one could stand to take a load off." Rick grimaced as he rubbed his lower back. "Getting a little too old for this."

Kate poked him on the shoulder. "Forty-seven isn't that old."

Rick gave her an appraising glance. "How did you know I'm forty-seven?"

"FBI, remember. Finding out things is my job."

"Hmmmm, have to be more careful in the future I guess." Rick glanced around at the rest of the group. His attempt to lighten the mood with humor was coming up lame. The four women were looking more and more like the stunned survivors of a car crash and he needed their minds totally focused on the hunt for the remaining terrorists. "Let's go back out into the atrium and sit for a spell. Lainey's crew will let us know when the testing is done."

"Any coffee in this place?" Kate asked as they left the observation area and entered the atrium.

Lainey nodded, "There's a break area through that door on the right."

"I'll get everyone a cup," Rick offered.

Vienna wasn't drinking and seemed to be merely toying with her cup. "A dollar for your thoughts?" Rick said. At Kate's quizzical look, he merely offered, "Inflation."

Vienna gave her head a quick double shake as if to clear her thoughts. "Why Lassa? It's one of the least virulent of all the hemorrhagic fevers. Why go to all the trouble that they did to introduce a wimpy virus, when it would have been just as easy to use something a lot more potent? Kind of like going for a field goal when you're first and goal from the one yard line."

Rick smiled briefly. Vienna was a most unlikely aficionado of NCAA football. Then his look sobered as he considered her question. She was right, it didn't really make sense, and that was unsettling. The people who had planned this operation hadn't shown any tendency to use half measures when full measures were available.

Hayley spoke up. "Vienna, are you telling us that this Lassa thing is like Ebola?

"Oh, yes, there are at least a dozen different hemorrhagic fevers identified so far. None of them is something you want to contract, as all their symptoms are pretty ghastly. The difference is in how easily each variety transmits from one person to another, and, most important, their different mortality rates. Lassa has a mortality rate of around ten percent. It's one of the milder ones. Ebola is probably the worst, with a mortality rate of eighty percent or so."

Kate asked, "How long does it take for someone to get sick if they are exposed to this Lassa virus?"

"Very good question," Vienna acknowledged. "The incubation period for Lassa is two to three weeks, just long enough for everyone who was exposed in the initial attack to become contagious and infect a lot more people, who then infect more, and so on. You would potentially have several generations of transmission before the first victim showed frank symptoms."

Kate struggled with the implications of what she had just heard. "My God, that would be—"  
"An epidemic," Rick finished. "Like nothing ever seen in this country."

Hayley spoke up. "Is there a cure for this thing, a vaccine or something?"

"'Fraid not," Rick answered. He traded a glance with Vienna. "There are some things in the works for similar viruses, but nothing that would handle an outright epidemic of Lassa."

Lainey reentered the anteroom. "I have the RNA map, and Dr. Chillicothe reviewed the data and concurs with our identification."

"How did it map out?" Rick asked. "I'm not going to like the news, am I?"

Lainey shook her head and took a deep rasping breath. "It's definitely Lassa." She paused. "Or at least it started out as Lassa. It's been genetically modified." Kate didn't miss the fact that both Rick and Vienna slid forward to the edge of their seats. "Specifically, it had approximately three hundred additional codons added to its genome." She took another deep breath, this one a bit shakier than before. "I recognize the fingerprint."

Rick stood and walked to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently.

Vienna joined him and placed her arm around the girl's shoulder. "What is it, Lainey?"

A tear escaped and trailed down her cheek. "IBC37A12."

Rick almost staggered at the import. "Cancer genes?"

Lainey just nodded as another tear followed the first. Vienna supplied the additional information for Kate and Hayley. "Specifically, these are the genes responsible for immunosuppression in a particularly aggressive form of breast cancer." She turned back to the younger woman and asked gently, "Your mother?"

Lainey nodded again as another renegade tear appeared.

Rick released her shoulder and gathered her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Lainey. I didn't realize that it was the same type your mom had."

"I know, Rick, I just miss her so much, and the thought that those animals were trying to spread it deliberately…"

"Whoa!" Hayley interjected. "You're telling us that the terrorists were going to release a virus that attacks breasts?" She crossed her arms in an instinctive but futile gesture.

Vienna grimaced. "No, the other way around. The cancer genes help the virus suppress the immune system of its host, simultaneously making the virus more infectious and more likely to kill the host. It's still Lassa, just much more contagious and much deadlier."

"How much more?" Kate asked, her pulse racing and dread settling in her belly like a lump of frozen lead. Those bastards will not hesitate to use this despicable weapon if they have any more. How can we possibly stop them?

Vienna glanced at Rick before answering. The silent exchange probably did more— unintentionally, to be sure—to raise the anxiety level in the rest of the group than anything said so far. Rick gave a minuscule nod, and Vienna turned to the group, pale but composed. "An order of magnitude!"

Kate felt as if a grave had just opened at her feet "I'm no mathematical genius, but isn't an order of magnitude increase from ten percent equal to a hundred percent?"

"Theoretically, yes, but probably not quite a hundred percent in reality. Nothing's quite that deadly."

Hayley spoke next. "What would be the likely outcome if this stuff had been released?"  
Vienna calculated for a second. "You said there were three other cylinders just like this one, right?"

Kate and Rick both nodded emphatically.

"Then, worst case, one of every five people in the state. Plus at least that many in other states if we didn't recognize it quickly enough and shut down interstate travel."

Kate met Rick's gaze. "Rick, do you remember what you said right before we went through the door of the maintenance shed?"

"Yeah, 'no mercy.' Why?"

"At the time, I thought it was grandstanding, but now I see your point."

Lainey's tablet chimed again and she studied it briefly. "Mr. Rick, are you ready to test the other cylinder?"

"I think so. You can finish with the virus analysis later. I really want to know what's in that little sucker."

"Spidey senses still tingling, huh?" Kate ventured.

"Even more so now. Lainey, how long will it take to switch the lab over to the small cylinder?"

"Not long, twenty minutes maybe."

"Okay, go for it." Rick stood and dragged his chair to face Kate. "What's the next step?"  
"I think it's time to call Roy, because this is rapidly getting above my pay grade."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to give Jordan a little heads up. That way she can have her ducks all lined up when she gets the official word through the Bureau."

"No problem." Kate rose and walked to the far side of the anteroom to make the call. Rick followed the flow of the conversation just by watching her facial expressions. Detached professionalism was followed by consternation turning to fear as she described the contents of the cylinder and its implications to her boss.

While Kate was briefing Roy, Rick made his own call.

Jordan sighed as the phone rang. Some days being Attorney General left her drained. Today was one of those days. She picked up on the first ring "Okay, Rick, how bad is it?"

"Bad enough." He proceeded to give her the entire story.

As he finished, she wearily removed the reading glasses she needed more often these days and rubbed her eyelids with her fists. The migraine that lurked in the background almost constantly gave notice that it was about to pounce. She motioned a high sign to her chief of staff, and the woman hurried out of the office, returning shortly with a chilled Perrier and a couple of Excedrin. Tossing back the pills with enough fizzy water to wash it down, She wrestled with the implications of what Rick had just told her. She was thankful that he knew her well enough to let her think it through on her own before entering into a conversation.

"This is a gross escalation of the magnitude of terrorist attacks. There is a lot more to this than stealing a few planes and crashing them into buildings. There is power behind this, power and evil almost beyond imagining," she said finally.

"Yep," Rick agreed. "The level of effort required simply to prepare this virus is difficult to conceptualize. First, it took a world class virologist, and probably a geneticist as well; I doubt there are a hundred people in the world who could handle it."

"Can you get us a list of names?"

"Of course, I'll give it to Agent Beckett. Then, once the perpetrators knew exactly what they wanted to do, you would have to have a chemical engineer or someone with similar skills to design a facility capable of mass-producing it with a very high level of precision. This was not done in someone's basement."

"Then you'd have to actually build the facility and staff it," Jordan concluded.

"Yes, absolutely. This is something that would typically require the resources of a nation state. The problem I'm having is that I don't know of a single one of the normal cast of villains that has this capability."

"Rick, what about the other cylinder you mentioned?"

"Lainey's working on it now," he replied. "Probably be another half hour or so before we have any results."

"Excuse me; it looks like that call from the Director is coming in. Let me go and get the official word. Call as soon as you know anything about the other cylinder, okay?"

"Of course, Jordan. Good luck with the Director."

###  
When Rick ended his call, he noticed that Kate had already returned to her seat and regarded him with a look that said she had heard at least the last part of his conversation with Jordan. "If it was not—to use your term— one of the 'normal cast of villains,' then who could it have been, Rick?"

"Don't know. Whoever it is, they've managed to fly under the radar very impressively so far. But now that we know what to look for, it won't be nearly as easy."

"Do you think they'll attempt it again?"

"That, Agent Beckett…" His eyes turned dark and his expression hardened. "That is a given."  
Kate's phone buzzed like a demented mosquito, demanding to be answered. "Hello, Roy…Yes, I'll ask." She turned to Rick. "Roy wants to know if you are okay if we take possession of the other cylinders, and what should we do with them?"

"Tell him to get in touch with General Poston at Fort Detrick. They'll tell him how to transport them, and they'll be able help with the disposal if necessary."

She repeated the contact information to her boss and added, "Roy, I'm sending Hayley back to the office to start running down leads. I'm going to stay at Orion until the analysis on the small cylinder is complete."

Vienna made a few entries on her phone, and the answer to her text message came back almost immediately. She caught Hayley's attention. "Agent Shipton, I took the liberty of arranging your transportation back to the Bureau, or would you prefer to go back to the golf course and reclaim your vehicle? The National Guard troops have arrived and everything is in process of being decontaminated."

Hayley looked to Kate for guidance. "Probably should get the car."

Vienna made a few more entries. "Okay, your escort should be here in about ten minutes. There's a ladies' room through that door if you want to freshen up a little."

Hayley nodded gratefully and disappeared through the indicated door.

Kate and Rick continued to discuss the case, brainstorming about who might be responsible. Rick was grateful for the opportunity to have Kate for idea bouncing. Vienna sat quietly, almost meditatively, in what Rick had learned to call a "thinking fit." When she went in to that state, he had learned that it was most productive to just leave her alone. When she came out of it, she invariably emerged with an idea worth waiting for.

"You know what's bothering me?" Vienna suddenly broke through the quiet buzz of conversation in the room.

"Don't keep us waiting," Rick coaxed.

Vienna stood and paced as she talked. "Why here?" It doesn't make sense."

"Why not," Kate responded.

"What was their goal?"

"To cause as many casualties as possible?" Kate guessed.

That's normally the goal of terrorists," Vienna agreed. "But if that was their goal, then why Tampa? It's a decent sized city, but it's not New York or L.A. Even Orlando would be a more target rich environment."

"Maybe they brought the cylinders in by sea? Hayley said.

"It's possible," Kate acknowledged after a moment's reflection. "But, security at the port is pretty tight."

Rick discretely coughed to get their attention. The three women turned to him with identical raised eyebrows. "Maybe they didn't need to bring the stuff in. What if it was produced here in the U.S.?"

Kate responded, "Rick, if you can get me a list of the equipment it would take to produce the virus I'll have Hayley run it down."

"Good idea, I'll have it to you in the morning."

Hayley returned just as the door opened and Javier Esposito entered, his limp more evident after a long, strenuous day. "Agent Shipton, I guess I'm your transportation. If you're ready, Skip has the bird pre-flighted and she's ready to go."

Vienna noticed how Hayley's countenance lit up when she recognized her escort. "Lead on, sir!"

"Please, call me Javier."

"Lead on then, Javier." The two disappeared through the door, and the rapid tattoo of her heels faded quickly.

Kate had seen her reaction as well, and looked imploringly at Vienna. "Don't worry Kate, she's in good hands," she said. "Javier's a good man. A very good man."

Fifteen minutes later Lainey reentered the room with her ever-present tablet. The three remaining occupants of the anteroom instantly ceased their discussion and looked at her expectantly. Her body language showed more confusion than fear, which Rick interpreted as "not so much hopeful as 'could be worse.'"

"I have the results," she said. "But they don't seem to make much sense. It's just hydrogen."

"Hydrogen?" That was not what Rick had been expecting, not at all. His mind had been prepared to hear anything from another modified killer virus to nano-scale alien ninjas, but not something as innocuous as hydrogen. He forced his tired brain to focus, rapidly processing scenarios that were becoming more and more outlandish, when it hit—the blinding flash of light that was his most valued, but most unpredictable possession. "Lainey, what's the isotope ratio?

She scanned the table display, "This can't be right, Rick. It's a fifty/fifty mix of hydrogen 3 and hydrogen 2."

He drew a deep, shuddering breath and sat heavily on the nearest chair, pinching the bridge of his nose in concentration.

Vienna dropped to her knees in front of him and took his hand. "What is it, Rick?"

Kate stood frozen. She had not known Rick for very long, but her mental image of the man did not include panic attacks and fainting spells.

"It's tritium and deuterium, highly purified. Think of it as weapons-grade hydrogen and you won't be far off."

They might have grasped the significance more quickly, but none of the three women were physicists. Vienna made the connection first, as might be expected. "They have nukes!"

"Looks that way."

Kate returned to her seat in front of Rick, looking thoroughly perplexed. "Rick, I thought nukes used uranium or something, not hydrogen."

The question was most welcome. Its straightforward simplicity, just facts without the emotional baggage of every other question he had faced in the last twelve hours, drew him back from the abyss that opened before him at the thought of terrorists driving around central Florida with a critical component of a thermonuclear device.

He gave Kate a half smile, acknowledging her question. "At its most basic, a nuclear warhead is composed of some fissionable material such as uranium or plutonium and enough conventional high explosive to compress the fissionable material and start an uncontrolled chain reaction. The weapons that were used on Hiroshima and Nagasaki were this type. The yield was somewhere around twenty thousand tons of TNT."

He paused, eyebrows raised, to be sure Kate understood. At her nod, he continued. "It was a big bang, to be sure, but weapons designers immediately began to try to increase the yield. But they ran into several problems that limited the yield of a purely fission weapon to a finite value not all that much greater than those first two bombs. However, they discovered that by including a quantity of tritium/deuterium in the bomb, a fission bomb could be boosted by several orders of magnitude, liberating vast amounts of energy without having to make the bomb any larger physically. One of these so-called 'boosted fission' bombs could easily achieve yields in the hundreds of thousands of tons of TNT.

"Isn't there any other possible explanation?" Kate was doing her due diligence to insure all bases were covered, but she wasn't enough of a gambler to actually put any of her hard-earned money on any other possibility.

Rick shook his head sadly. "Not really. The main commercial use for tritium is to make things glow in the dark. The night sights on your sidearm are undoubtedly tritium, for example. A little bit goes a long way, too. The tritium in the cylinder would make a couple of hundred thousand sets of night sights, which doesn't seem too likely." He exhaled heavily and sat back. "Now that we know what is in the cylinder, I guess it's time to update the suits."

Kate nodded and returned to her spot on the wall to call Roy. Rick hit redial, and Jordan answered before the first ring ended.

"I guess you're going to insist on telling me what was in the second cylinder, aren't you?" Her voice sounded tired.

"It goes with the fancy office and exorbitant government salary; you have to deal with annoying underlings."

"Should I go ahead and send Camille out for another round of Excedrin and Perrier?"

"You might want to put a couple of fingers of single-malt in with that Perrier"

"That bad, huh? Okay. I'm sitting down."

"The second cylinder contained a mixture of tritium and deuterium."

"Look, Rick, you're the mad scientist here, not me. What the heck are tritium and deuterium?

"What all the deranged nuclear terrorists want in their stocking this Christmas."

"Rick, my jovial side is amused, but my hard-ass attorney general side is not. Are you telling me that these maniacs have nukes?"

"Well, technically they have a key ingredient for a nuclear weapon, but it's not much of a stretch to hypothesize that they have the rest of it, too."

"Look what you've gone and done; now I have to call the President."

"At least you won't have to wake him up. It's only a little after eight.

"Rick…" The timbre of her voice changed. "You will get these bastards, won't you?"

"Yes."

"Then good hunting."


	19. Chapter 19

The call ended, and Rick walked over to talk with Vienna and Lainey. He instructed Lainey to continue the analysis on the virus as a first priority.

"I've arranged for a driver to take you and Agent Beckett back to the FBI building," Vienna informed him. "I assume you'll be here for our regular ten o'clock tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah, unless something pops overnight. Make sure Lainey doesn't stay up all night working on the virus. I have a feeling we're going to need her on her game for the next few days."

Kate pocketed her phone and walked over to join the conversation. "The Bureau has officially taken charge of the other cylinders and they are on their way to USAMRIID (US Army Medical Research Institute for Infectious Disease) as we speak. The NBC decontamination company has just about finished with decontaminating the scene. So, can I snag a ride back to the Bureau?"

Rick nodded. "I have to get my car anyway, so if you want you can ride with me. One of our drivers should be downstairs by the time we get there."

The two women gathered up their things and followed Rick out. A dark blue Lincoln Navigator waited with the engine ticking over. "Vienna, can we drop you at the admin building on the way out?"

"Thank you, but I think I'll take the cart. Some fresh air would be welcome after such a day." She surprised Kate with a quick hug. "It was an honor to meet you, Agent Beckett, and thank you for bringing Mr. Rick back in one piece."  
"The honor is mine. We heard a lot about you from Rick, but now I can safely say that he is given to understatement."

Vienna chuckled. "For once." She stepped into the cart and accelerated out into the night.

Rick opened the front passenger door for Kate, hoping that he would have better luck than the last time. She just smiled and climbed in. He walked around to the driver's side and addressed the young man in the driver's seat. "Roger, do you mind if I drive? I'm too keyed up to just sit, and driving will give me something to do."

"Sure thing, Professor. I'll just jump in the back"

Rick climbed in and backed the SUV out of the garage. Soon they were heading west. The traffic was fairly heavy, and he forced his focus to driving.

If Kate had to guess, she'd say he was probably trying—mostly successfully—to block out thoughts of the day. She also tried to maintain an outward calm that belied the storm raging inside. She hadn't even finished moving into her new office, and, here, her first case as a supervisor turns out to be the biggest case since 9/11. Her thoughts raced in an ever-deepening spiral, racing from What if I can't hack it, what if I don't find them and they do it again? To What if I hurl, right here in this car—?"

"You'll do fine." Rick's voice was low and soft, but it cut through the turmoil like the knife of a master surgeon.

"What—?"

"It's your first case as the boss, so it's perfectly normal to have butterflies."

"How did you know…?"

"This is not my first rodeo, Agent Beckett. When I led out my first recon patrol, I was shaking so bad that I couldn't use the radio to report in."

"What makes you so sure that I'll be able to do the job?"

"Because I'm an incredible judge of people, and what I see is an extraordinary investigator and extraordinary woman who will make the long arm of the law these bastards' worst nightmare."

She felt the heat of a blush beginning beneath her collar and rising rapidly to engulf her face. No one outside her family had ever called her extraordinary before, and even though he couldn't take his eyes completely off his driving, the sideways glance he gave her was compellingly sincere. She hoped with all her being that he was right.

Rick turned in at the FBI building and parked the SUV near the main entrance. He walked around to the passenger side, arriving just as Kate hopped out. They stood, eyes locked for a few seconds, neither knowing how to bring an incredible day to a satisfying conclusion.

Kate spoke first. "Rick, I'm glad you were there with us today, I don't know what I—we would have done without you."

He wanted desperately to hug her, but, remembering her history, he reluctantly decided that would probably be his worst possible course of action. So he merely nodded. "Until tomorrow, Agent Beckett"  
"I'll call you." For a moment, he thought she was going to step towards him, but she gave a tiny, quivery little shiver and turned to stride rapidly toward the building. Rick watched until she was out of sight, and then turned to the young man who was standing at the open driver's door. "Thanks, Roger, I guess that will be all for the night."

"Any time, Professor." The kid hoisted himself into the vehicle and headed out, taillights merging quickly into the traffic on Memorial Drive.

Rick decided that standing alone in the middle of the FBI parking lot was probably ultimately more uncomfortable than going home to an empty house, so he made his way to his everyday car, a dark green Range Rover Sport. The engine started smoothly and idled with a genteel rumble, giving no hint of the five hundred horsepower on tap. He estimated about a forty-minute drive to Pass-a-Grille beach. He selected a country channel on his satellite radio and cranked up the volume, trying to lose himself in the familiar rhythms. Fortunately, there was enough traffic to focus his attention with scant left over to dwell on the events of the day. Sure enough, forty-three minutes later, he turned in to his house and the garage door opened automatically, granting the SUV entrance. The garage, which occupied half of the ground floor, was also home to the blood red Ferrari, and a black Ford F-150 Raptor pickup. Rick was a strong believer in the creed that only fast cars are interesting, and worshipped faithfully at the altar of performance. Sometimes he thought it was the physicist in him simply appreciating the efforts of brilliant engineers to repeal the laws of physics. Although ultimately doomed, they could still make some incredible machines in the process. The other half of the ground floor was his woodworking shop, not that he got much opportunity to make shavings these days. He trudged tiredly up the steps into the kitchen, and smiled when he saw the note standing on the island like a miniature pup tent. Picking it up, he read Maria's delicate feminine script. Supper in microwave. Don't drink too much. Shaking his head, he wondered if there were other guys who had as many women nagging them to behave as he had accumulated over the years. From the Attorney General of the United States to a political refugee housekeeper, they all seemed to have one overarching mission in life: keep Rick Castle on the straight and narrow. Past experience with Maria's cooking drove him to take a quick peek in the microwave. He grinned. Yum. A casserole of huevos rancheros and a napkin-wrapped packet that had to be homemade flour tortillas.  
"You all just wait right there until old Rick grabs a shower and change, and then we'll get better acquainted." He took the food's silence as agreement with his plan and strode across the den to his bedroom. Fifteen minutes later, he had scrubbed himself clean and put on a pair of sweats. On his way back to the kitchen, he snagged a Sam Adams from the fridge at the bar and took a deep swig as he set the appropriate time on the microwave. The aroma of garlic and onions was heavenly as he carried the casserole and his beer to the deck, where he sat overlooking the ocean. The sudden release of the tension left him ravenously hungry, so it was a few minutes before anything could displace the sybaritic pleasure of eating Maria's cooking and savoring the hoppy bitterness of the beverage. Finishing the dish, he carried everything to the kitchen, placing the dishes in the dishwasher. Walking through the arched doorway to the wet bar, he held a silent debate. Another beer, or something a bit stronger? Knowing that it was going to be a rough night, stronger won the debate, and he opened the cabinet looking for a good, honest, straightforward painkiller over the more rhapsodic beverages he saved for happier times. An unopened bottle of ten-year-old Talisker that he kept for poker nights caught his eye, so he peeled back the foil and twisted off the cap. A dram of the spirit quickly went into an old-fashioned glass, but it looked lonely, so he added another.

The night air was inviting, neither too hot nor too cold, so he made his way back to the deck and sat in one of the cushioned wicker chairs, putting his feet up on another chair that he wrestled into position. Taking a sip, he savored the velvety smoothness of the spirit on his tongue, and the sweet, peaty maltiness simultaneously soothed and stimulated his taste buds. However, he was not there to taste, but to think and to decide. First, he had a decision to make regarding the woman who was occupying an inordinate amount of bandwidth in his thoughts since their meeting only three days ago. When he and Jordan had structured the team they needed to deal with the conspiracy that was responsible for Bandar Deylam, They'd had agreed that they needed a cop, preferably a federal-level cop with top-notch investigative skills. Since the vast majority of Federal cops reported to one Jordan Shaw, Rick had agreed to have her find the right prospect. Her short list only had one name: Kate Gavilan Beckett. Indeed, Rick's visit to the Bureau had been primarily in order to vette agent Beckett for assignment to his team. The proposal for cooperation between the Bureau and Orion, while genuine, had been very much a side benefit.

He took another sip of the scotch and smiled when he remembered his initial reaction to Kate, and how much that initial impression had changed in the last twenty-four hours. The woman had the heart of a lion and a toughness that belied her delicate appearance. As his mountaineer grandfather would have put it, she was "one who would do to run the ridges with." She also seemed to have overcome whatever had gotten her panties in a twist at their first meeting. The discussion with Hayley had given him some significant insights into what made her tick, but it had created almost as many new questions as it had answers. That future talk needed to happen soon, the sooner the better.

He took another sip and turned his mind to deal with the one thing that was causing him to have reservations: the strange feeling that they had met before. It was maddening how the sense of familiarity seemed to grow with every minute he spent in her presence, while at the same time the details of her past stayed dark and elusive. The lack of information on her life before 2001 was not in itself a showstopper, but it did raise some questions about any potential baggage she might have that would affect the team. Suddenly he smacked his forehead theatrically. "Why didn't I think of Jordan? She has to know the details, or she would never have nominated Kate." He grabbed his phone and checked the time, twenty till midnight; almost guaranteed that Jordan would still be awake.

"No guts—no glory," he muttered as he initiated the call.

As usual, Jordan picked up on the first ring. "Jeez, Castle do you realize what time it is?"

"Jordan, I need to ask you a question, and I need a straight answer."

"When have I ever given you anything but a straight answer?"

"Sorry, let me rephrase that. I need a definitive answer."

"Okay, I can handle that. This is about Agent Beckett, isn't it?"

"How…?"

"Rick, I know you, and to tell you the truth I've been kind of expecting this call ever since you and Kate met."

"So why not just tell me up front?"

"Because I wanted you to draw your conclusions based on the woman herself and not a bunch of old second-hand information."

"Okay, I guess I can buy that. But before we go any further, do you know whether Kate and I have met before?"

"Yes."

"Yes you know, or yes it happened?"

"Both."

"So you know when and where?"

Silence, he could imagine her lawyer's mind parsing every possible answer to that question before settling on the one that would best serve her purpose.

"Yes and yes, but I believe that should be Kate's story to tell, not mine."

"Jordan, you're killing me!"

"Rick, trust me on this one. If I tell you, it would ruin everything. You do trust me, don't you?"

Rick hated it when she used that trick, mainly because it always worked. "To the death, you know that."

"Okay, so where were we?"

"I want her."

"Rick, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't need to know about your sex-life?

"Droll, Madame Attorney General, very droll. I want them for the team."

"Them?"

"Kate and Hayley…er…Agent Shipton"

"You know, Roy Montgomery will have you shot when he finds out that you poached his two superstars."

"I'll take that risk."

"All right Rick; you've got your team. Now, if you don't mind, I need my sleep. Cabinet meeting tomorrow at seven a.m."

"Goodnight, Jordan."

Rick placed his phone on the table and retrieved his glass, taking a very healthy sip, almost a slug, and feeling the wave of liquid fire flow down his throat. So they had met before! It must not have been a very memorable meeting, since neither he nor Kate could recall it, but that connection he felt was real. The thought generated a second wave of warmth to follow the scotch.

After about ten minutes, he turned his thoughts to the other major decision he had to make. The fifteenth anniversary of his court martial was just four days away. The gag order, and his agreement to disassociate from his crew and to refrain from any investigation of Bandar Deylam, would expire. One option would be to maintain the status quo. There were enough technological breakthroughs under development at Orion to make him a billionaire several times over and he could just chuck it all and be a worthless playboy for the rest of his life.

Or, he could stay in the shadows and fight what was essentially a guerrilla war against the conspiracy, suffering no great defeats, but achieving no great victories. Meanwhile the worldwide slide into darkness would continue, probably accelerate if today's events were any indication.

The glass lifted and another slug—definitely a slug this time—seemed to burn the dross from his thoughts, those despicable, cowardly thoughts of ease, and riches, and safety.

He had created Orion for one and only one purpose: to forge the blade that would slay the Monster, to create the weapons and supporting technologies that would bring down the conspiracy that he and Jordan had uncovered. Bring it down in blood and fire and such utter ruin that the world would never forget. The stars twinkled serenely above him, but they only served to reinforce the sheer number of crimes the Monster had to answer for. His mind's eye saw them all, the murdered Marines, the victims of genocide, the children starved by the endless, meaningless conflicts that ebbed and flowed like a continual tsunami, casting the broken bodies of its victims helter-skelter across the landscape. All that and more would be laid at the feet of a Monster that human language could scarcely encompass.

Every member of Orion had felt the scaly, reptilian touch of the Monster in some fashion, some small, some large. It had taken sons and daughters, mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, with all the compassion of a death adder, and the flame of vengeance burned to some degree within every heart that made up the organization. Rick and Jordan had followed the trail of the Monster for fifteen long years, and had occasionally thwarted his designs, but the agreement that had kept Rick out of prison had also insulated the Monster from the full appreciation of his foe.

The last option was to draw the sword he had forged, throw away the scabbard, and set the blade upon his enemy with his whole strength. Yet he hesitated, not on his own account, but on the account of Jordan, Vienna, Javier, and now Kate and Hayley, and everyone else who was associated with him. He knew the power and reach of the Monster; he knew the fury that would erupt when he was challenged openly, fury that would fall on all that Rick Castle cared about in this world. Could he carry that burden?

Rick Castle stood in the middle of utter devastation. A huge, deep gash in the earth, reeking of violence and death drew him like a magnet, and he slid down the crumbling dirt bank into the depth of the crater. The scoured dirt walls rose on all sides, restricting his view to a small patch of sky, cheerfully blue and cloudless, as if evil had not triumphed in this obscure corner of Pennsylvania.  
Dirty, stinking smoke eddied and flowed above, around and through him. The heat was hellish, and a wave of nausea staggered him as he inhaled the sweet smell of burnt flesh overlaid with the chemical tang of jet fuel. I can't do this; it's all my fault. But, he made no move to walk back toward the walls of the pit, because he heard her call him.

"Rick, I'm here. Please come, I need you, I know who he is."  
The sweet but unutterably sad voice of his Kyra propelled him forward, but his way was blocked by jagged pieces of metal, some small, and some quite large. He looked closer and felt the bile rise in his throat. Some of the obstacles were bodies and parts of bodies, all torn and burned beyond recognition.

One body in particular drew him closer. Almost intact, though horribly burned, it was clearly the body of a young woman, and he knelt on the charred earth for a closer look. No, please God, no, and then he saw the necklace. Two hearts entwined, with a small ruby set in the intersection—the necklace he had given Kyra while they waited for her flight to be called.

Pain ripped through his body like a dull buzz saw, and he scrambled to get away before he emptied the contents of his stomach on the scorched dirt. He didn't know how long he knelt there, weeping, cursing, raging, knowing that the carnage around him was no accident, that one human being had ordered it and others had willingly connived to make it happen.

He became aware of a hand on his arm helping him up, and he stood. A man stepped into his vision as the hand left his arm. His gaze met the other man's, and his knees buckled.

It was like looking into a mirror, the same eyes, the same nose and chin. The mustache only seemed to highlight the similarities. The stranger was dressed in old-fashioned combat fatigues

The stranger smiled a familiar lopsided smile. "Hello, Richard"

"Who are you?"

"You know the answer."

Recognition stunned him, "Dad?"

"Who else? Now, what are you waiting for?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Get your troops together and go after them."

"It's not that simple."

"It is precisely that simple. Your people, if you call for them, will they go with you?"

"Yes."

"Will they fight?"

"Yes."

"Do they understand what's at stake?"

"Yes."

"Then what are you waiting for?

"I'm worried about my family, my friends."

"What about your children, what kind of world do you want them to live in?"

"Children?, missing a key ingredient there."

"You've already won the heart of a fine woman, you can do it again."  
"You never met Kyra."

"Sure I have, and little Kendra too. Lovely child."

"Kendra? My….?"

"Daughter, yes."

"I can't dad. I failed her. She was wearing her uniform and they killed her, she was the first to die. I heard it on the cockpit voice recorder. She called for me, she begged me to save her. But I wasn't there, God forgive me I wasn't there." Rick's knees hit the ground raising little puffs of black char.

She wanted me to come back to California with her, but I was too proud to face her parents. So I practically pushed her on to that plane. I watched them close the door and the plane taxi away from the gate. She died all alone trying to protect our baby. Oh dear God, what kind of man would do that?

"I could have saved her, Dad. I could have saved them both, but I wasn't there.

The older man placed his hand on his son's shoulder as if absorbing the caustic guilt pouring out of him in a torrent."

Rick woke with a start as his unbalanced chair flipped him onto the hard wooden surface of the deck. His hands trembled, but he caressed the weathered wood as if it were the finest silk. The sheer solidity and organic realness helped to settle his nerves and bring him back from the nightmare. He had not had the Kyra nightmare in a few years, and never with his father.

Standing, he righted the wicker chair and retrieved his empty glass. He stood for a few seconds, gazing at the stars until a meteor clawed its way across the sky, dying in a shower of sparks.

Perhaps that galvanized him, or perhaps it was just time. He picked up his phone. 06:10. He had been asleep for a while. He quickly formatted a simple text message and sent it. That simple message would trigger a titanic struggle that would rival anything in human history.

"Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war."

Kate Beckett entered the FBI building and went straight to her friend's office. Hayley looked up as she entered. "How did you get here?"

"I rode with Rick. Do we have anything?"

"Did you two talk?"

"About the case," Kate lied. She wasn't quite ready to deal with Rick's comments about her being extraordinary.

Hayley seemed disappointed. "Well, I do have one good lead. The virus and gas cylinders have serial numbers and inspection stamps certifying that they are capable of holding their rated pressure."

Kate interrupted. "So we should be able to trace them, right?"

"Cool your jets, girl. They were ground off"

"Oh."

Hayley let her hang for a second or two. "But, I remembered that Lainey had told us she had them CT-scanned to check for booby traps. I had her e-mail me a copy of the scans aaaand…voila!" She turned her laptop to face Kate, who leaned forward eagerly. Sure enough, there was the serial number, as well as an inspector stamp with the number 724 easily distinguishable.

Hayley continued, "The inspector stamps are as unique as a signature. The number is issued when a person passes the test to be an inspector and is never issued to anyone else."

Kate felt much the way a bloodhound must feel when she picks up a scent. A delicious quiver of excitement and anticipation energized her tired muscles. One simple lead was often all that was necessary to begin unraveling even the most complex case.

"That will give us the manufacturer, and the serial numbers should give us who bought them." A predatory grin captured her lips, and Hayley laughed.

"Well, girl, you're going to have to wait until morning."

"I know, but it still sucks. Any other leads?"

"The CSU supervisor tells me they'll have a preliminary report by noon. Fortunately for us, there is a ton of physical evidence. But it'll take a while to wade through it all."

"So did you enjoy your second helicopter flight?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know, your moonlight flight with Javier." I owe her a little grief after all the kidding she's been giving me about Rick.

"Kate, it was only a forty-minute flight. Not much can happen in that short a time."

Kate laughed. "Yeah, right! When we flew to the Institute, it only took sixteen minutes. I know because I timed it. So if it took forty minutes to fly back, then either you were having so much fun that it just seemed longer or Javier told Skip McCutcheon to take the scenic route."

"Do you think he would do that?" Hayley failed to suppress a grin.

"Well girl, there's a couple of things that I think I've figured out about Rick Castle and his band of merry men and women: one, they are not a shy and retiring bunch; and two, when they do something it is all out, nothing held back. So, yes, if Javier wanted some extra time with you, he's entirely capable of finagling a few extra minutes onto a flight plan."

"Wow, I think you're right. What should I do now?"

"I'm not exactly Dr. Laura, but I bet you lunch that he'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay, you're on. That's the perfect wager, 'cause I win either way. I did learn some things about Rick today." She paused and looked at Kate expectantly. "If you're interested, that is."

"Are you going to make me beg?"

"Well, for one thing, Javier and Rick were serving together when Javier was wounded. Did you notice the limp?" Kate nodded. "They both commented that the battle or whatever was 'very rough'. Rick didn't mention anything else, but Javier dropped a hint that Rick saved his life."

"Did either of them give any hint of when this incident occurred?" Kate asked, thinking hard.

"Yes…Javier said that he left the Marines fifteen years ago."

Kate rocked back in her seat, realization hitting like a jolt of adrenaline. "Hayley, have you noticed how ten years seems to pop up an awful lot in relation to Rick?"

"Not until now, but you're right, it does seem to come up too often to be just happenstance."

"It's almost like the life he has now started in 2001. What happened that year that turned his whole life upside down?" Kate briefly wondered whether she actually wanted to know, but ironically it was the connection she had felt when they met that decided her. One way or the other, Rick was going to be a part of her life, and she needed to know the measure of the man.

Hayley had a thought. "Rick's records before 2001 are locked, but I wonder if his friends and associates are locked, too? Anything that affected him that much ought to have affected at least a few others, right? What about Javier?"

"Perfect, can you access his service record?"

Hayley was already typing and clicking feverishly. "Bingo! Here it is, Javier Esposito, Captain United States Marine Corps. Medical discharge with a twenty percent disability due to wounds suffered in action at a place called Bandar Deylam in July 2001. A Navy captain recommended him for a silver star, but it was never awarded."

Kate had a thought of her own. "Both Rick and Javier said it was 'very rough,' which means mere mortals would have probably thought it was catastrophic. If it was that bad, there had to have been other casualties. Check for death benefit claims filed on behalf of Marines the last half of 2001."

More clicking and typing. "Here it is…Oh, my God."

"What is it?"

"Kate, there were 237 death benefit claims filed over a two-week period at the end of July and beginning of August 2001. All related to Bandar Deylam." She went into another round of typing and clicking. "Just for your information, Bandar Deylam is in Iran. It's a port city on the Persian Gulf."

"Iran? Since when have we been fighting with Iran?"

"Don't know, but things seem to have gotten a bit out of hand back in '01." Hayley resumed typing and clicking. "Damn," she muttered. She looked up at her friend, bitter tears gathering in her eyes as she wrestled with the implications of the data so matter-of-factly populating her laptop screen. "Kate, there were more than a hundred recommendations for Purple Hearts during that same time frame, also related to this Bandar Deylam!" She took a deep, cleansing breath, "Do you know what that means?"

Kate shook her head. Unlike Hayley, who came from a military family, Kate had only a passing appreciation of things military. "If you combine the number of deaths with the number of wounded, the total is approximately the full strength of a Marine battalion." Hayley choked back a sob. "The Iranians seem to have essentially wiped out an entire battalion of Marines!"

Kate felt a chill travel the length of her body, "Well, I guess that certainly qualifies as 'very rough,' doesn't it?"

Hayley nodded soberly, capturing an errant tear with her fingertip. "Who else can we check?" They both sat back in their chairs, weighing and discarding names that they were aware of until epiphany struck, and they looked at each other sheepishly. They had overlooked the most obvious source of all: Jordan Shaw. "Let's see what our esteemed Attorney General was up to back in 2001." Hayley was struck with a sudden thought. "I wonder if she was in the military as well." Her hands flew over the keyboard, coaxing and cajoling information into a semblance of order. "Well, interestinger and interestinger."

"What have you got?" Kate slid her chair closer, peering over her friend's shoulder.

"Lieutenant Commander Jordan Terrell Shaw, U.S. Navy Judge Advocate General Corps, 1990 to 2001. She resigned from the Navy in October 2001, and then accepted a teaching position at Georgetown. Sounds like our girl." "Any info on why she resigned?"

"No."

"Maybe it had something to do with a case."

"Maybe, let's see. Wow, she tried more than 300 cases; 107 as prosecutor, and 211 as defense counsel."

"What was her record?"

"Amazing!"

"How amazing?"

"How does 317 wins and one loss sound?"  
"That's more than amazing, that's a freaking miracle!" Kate narrowed her eyes as a thought gelled. "I bet the one loss was her last case."

Hayley scrolled quickly through the list on her screen "My sweet Lord!" She looked up from the screen, meeting Kate's gaze.


	20. Chapter 20

Kate reached out and placed a hand over her friend's hand on the mouse. She felt the barely suppressed tremor and spoke with an assurance she didn't really feel, but gently for all that. "It's okay Hayley, how bad could it be?"

"You were right; the one loss was her last case." She stifled a sob and felt Kate's hand on hers tense a little. "The case was United States Marine Corps versus Castle. Jordan was his defense counsel. He was found guilty."

Kate felt as if someone had just kicked her in the stomach, sending the room spinning around her. "What were the charges?" She forced out the words with a supreme effort.

"Disobedience to orders, desertion, and cowardice. Guilty on all counts."

It was fortunate that a rest room was just across the hall from Hayley's office. As it was, Kate barely made it to the porcelain bowl before she emptied her stomach. When the heaves subsided, she wiped her mouth with a paper towel and used her cupped hand to bring some water to her mouth. She rinsed and spat, then turned to find Hayley watching her anxiously from the door.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She lied. She left the rest room and turned to walk towards the main entrance.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. There's nothing else I can do here tonight."

"At least call me when you get home, so I know you're okay."

"I will," and she hurried down the hall, through the main entrance, and to the parking lot where her M3 waited. She climbed in and settled herself before the tears began, but she started the engine anyway and drove off, operating mostly on autopilot, too numb to really engage her surroundings. In spite of it all, she arrived home and phoned Hayley. Then she poured herself a shot of tequila and tossed it back, coughing as the fiery spirit assaulted the back of her throat. She collapsed on the couch, brooding darkly until she fell into a fitful sleep.

Hayley returned to her office and stared at the screen, the damning words still mocking her. There has to be some mistake, some monstrous screw-up. How could I have misjudged Rick so completely? What about the people around him? They didn't seem the kind of people to consort with a coward. And, most telling of all, he had undoubtedly saved her life, and Kate's. It was all very confusing, and her tired brain refused to resolve the apparent contradictions. So she did what she always did when life didn't make sense, she picked up her phone and called her dad.

Captain David Farragut Shipton, U.S. Navy, retired, recognized his youngest daughter's ring tone and accepted the call, knowing that the lateness of the hour portended something significant. "Hello, baby girl, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Daddy, I need your help on a case I'm working on."

"Well that's a first. What happened, did someone steal an aircraft carrier or something?"

Hayley managed a weak chuckle. "No, but I need to know about a place called Bandar Dylan." She heard her father's breath catch and a deathly silence ensued.

Finally her father spoke, his voice gravelly and raw. "Just how did my daughter hear about that hell-hole?"

"It came up in my investigation, and I met someone who was there. Rick Castle, do you know anything about him?"

"You're not investigating him, are you? He's not in any trouble, is he?"

"No he's not in any trouble, he's helping with the investigation, but I did some digging into his background and found that he was courtmar—"

"Hayley Lea Shipton, if you ever use Rick's name and the word court-martial together in my presence again, I swear I will disown you."

Hayley was shocked by the vehemence of her father's reaction; he'd never spoken to her that way before. "I'm sorry Daddy; I didn't mean to upset you. But I guess that means you do know him…"

"I'm sorry, too, baby girl, but that court-martial was a mortal insult to everyone who has ever worn the uniform. And no, I don't know him personally, but I sure know of him. If you need the straight scoop on Bandar Deylam, then you need to talk to Uncle George."

Hayley was slightly mystified; George was her father's younger brother. He was an ex-Marine who had been seriously injured in a training accident about fifteen years ago. Hayley's heart raced as she made the connection. "Uncle George was there, wasn't he?"

"Yes, he was. He was told to either tell everyone it was a training accident or he would be dishonorably discharged and lose his disability benefits, but he was wounded in action, not in a damned accident."

"Daddy, do you think Uncle George would be willing to talk to me about it?"  
"Probably, if I call ahead and give him a heads up. He feels a bit guilty about taking the deal and not standing up for the truth. Might do him good to get it off his chest."

"Thanks Daddy, I love you."

"Love you, too, baby girl."

Thirty minutes later Hayley's phone buzzed and she answered to find her uncle on the line. "Hello, Uncle George."

"How's my favorite niece?"

"Been better, it's been a heck of a day."

"I hear you; David said you've been digging into Bandar Deylam."

"Actually, I was digging into Rick Castle and Bandar Deylam just popped up."

"Well, let me tell you a story…"

Thirty minutes later, Hayley sat at her terminal, staring blankly at the screen. The emotional roller coaster that her uncle's graphic and impassioned tale led her through had sapped her strength and a single thought hammered through her mind on endless repeat. What have we done.

"My God, Uncle George," she'd cried. "If they made a movie of this it would be too fantastic. No one would believe it!"

"I don't doubt it, but let me tell you this. There is not one man or woman who got out of that mess alive who would credit anyone other than Rick Castle. The things he did were the kinds of things that people normally get the Medal of Honor for, and those despicable bastards court-martialed him and then kicked him out of the Marines.

To top it off, two months after Bandar Deylam, he lost his fiancée and unborn child on 9/11. I'm surprised he didn't go completely over the cliff."

Fiancée? 9/11? That was some new information; maybe that explained Rick's comment that he hadn't been in a relationship in fifteen years. He'd never moved on.

"Thanks, Uncle George, you've been a great help."

"Goodbye Hayley, it was a relief to finally talk about it."

Hayley dialed Kate, her heart singing like a high tension wire; they had been so wrong about Rick—maybe they could blame the stresses of the day—he really was the kind of man that any woman could respect and perhaps love. The call went to voice mail. Damn! Kate had turned off her phone. Hayley made a sudden decision and called a cab. She would go to Kate's apartment and tell her in person.

Kate Beckett was being gang raped, or at least the gang was attempting to rape her. Their efforts so far had not progressed much beyond fondling and poking, interspersed with the occasional slap or punch. She cried and whimpered, begging them not to hurt her, but that only triggered coarse laughter and lewd comments.

Then she saw one of the men approaching her with a handful of instruments. She screamed and screamed as wave after wave of agony ripped through her small frame and she struggled in frantic hopelessness but the restraints that held her were strong and her strength was small. She began to feel faint as she felt a warm wetness between her legs and pooling under her hips. She managed to open her eyes as the man with the instrument withdrew it and held it up as if it were a trophy. It was red with blood, her blood. He applied the instrument again and the white-hot pain in her abdomen drove her into the blessed oblivion of unconsciousness. Sometime later she was slapped awake, and the men told her exactly how they were going to kill her. The door burst open, and a young man in uniform stood in the door, gun in hand.

"What is going on here?" he demanded.

"Just having a little fun," one of the men sneered, to the accompaniment of jeers from his companions.

The young man turned and spoke into a radio attached to his uniform. "This is Paladin-6, just some locals getting rowdy, nothing we need to worry about." He looked at her and shrugged apologetically.

She realized then that it was Rick Castle, and she screamed, "You're supposed to be my paladin, you're supposed to protect me, you're supposed to be brave," and she screamed again.

###  
Hayley was poised to ring Kate's bell when she heard the gut-wrenching scream from inside. She rattled the doorknob, shouting Kate's name. No answer and the door was locked.

Another piercing scream. Hayley drew her Glock and delivered a perfect kick to the door, splintering the area around the lock and slamming the door open. She burst through, weapon at the ready, but the only occupant was Kate, who was lying on the floor next to the couch trembling and gagging and soaked with sweat. Hayley quickly holstered her weapon and knelt next to her best friend. "Kate, Kate, wake up! It's me Hayley, you're okay, and you've been having a nightmare." Kate opened her eyes, flinching away from Hayley's touch."Hayley?" Kate asked hoarsely. "What happened?" She levered herself off the floor and onto the couch, drawing her legs up to her chest and curling into a tight ball.

"You were having a nightmare; I heard you scream and imagined the worst, so I kinda kicked down your door. You were lying on the floor, screaming something about paladins."

"Can I have some water?" Hayley nodded and rushed to get a bottle of water from the fridge. When she returned to the living room, she saw that Kate had retrieved her purse from the coffee table and was fumbling with an orange plastic medicine bottle.

She passed the water to Kate and relieved her of the pill bottle.

"How many?"

Kate held up one finger and Hayley shook a single pill into her palm before handing it over. As she screwed the cap back on the bottle, she stole a glance at the label—Xanax. She sank to the couch, her knees almost touching Kate's, as her friend tossed back the pill with a single slug of water. "Kate, is this for PTSD?" She held up the bottle.

Kate nodded reluctantly, and added with a brittle, defeated tone, "What you saw wasn't a nightmare, it was a flashback."

"Oh, Kate, I knew something had happened to you before we met, but you never talked about it. This wasn't about law school, was it?'

Kate shuddered and pulled her knees tighter to her chest. "No, it was before that. And I don't like to talk about it. I've been to therapy, but it didn't seem to help much."

"My God, Kate, what happened? You scared the crap out of me. I think it's time you let someone in."

Kate nodded jerkily and drew a deep shuddering breath "Well, first of all my name wasn't always Kate Beckett. My birth name was Halcon, Catalina Halcon."

"I know you weren't born in the U.S., so where were you?

Kate had to clear her throat before she answered softly. "El Salvador."

Then it clicked. Halcon, Arturo Halcon, President Arturo Halcon. "Kate, are you telling me that you're related to the President of El Salvador?"

"He's my father," she replied, swallowing as tears threatened again. "When the civil war was winding down, one of my father's political rivals had me kidnapped. I think the people who kidnapped me got tired of waiting and decided to have some fun."

Kate's tears were flowing freely now, and Hayley felt numb with a combination of horror and fury. "I kind of lost track of time, but I'm sure it lasted at least a week. They hurt me over and over and just laughed when I begged them to stop. I prayed, I prayed that my father would come, and then I prayed that I would die."

Hayley finally found her voice. "How old were you when all this happened?"

"Ten."

Hayley felt as if her heart had been shredded. Her strong, passionate, compassionate friend had been carrying this horrible burden for almost twenty-seven years, and she had written it off as 'trust issues'. The hell with it, she gathered the other woman into a hug, and whispered, "I'm so sorry Kate, I didn't know, and I should have. I can't believe what an idiot I was, throwing guys at you all of the time to see if one would stick. It must have been twelve kinds of hell."

"Hayley, you didn't know, okay? I never talk about this; I just can't deal with it. I was ashamed and felt like you wouldn't want me as a friend if you knew how messed up I am."

Hayley tightened her hold on her friend as if sheer proximity could exorcise the demons. "You know better, right?"

"If I say yes, Rick you ease up a little so I can breathe?"

"Sorry." She released the hug, but kept a death grip on her friend's hand. "How did you get away from them?"

Kate smiled, it was fragile and almost transparent, but a smile nonetheless. "Ironically it was the one thing I hadn't prayed for."

"And that was…?"

"American Marines."

"Marines! How did they get involved?"

"Well, it seems that my father's rival got ambitious and snatched the American legal attaché. They were holding her in a room down the hall from mine. I found out later that she was also the CIA station chief, so the Americans decided to rescue her."

Kate paused as a shiver racked her body. "There were five of them in my room, and they had finished with me and were telling me that they were going to kill me. Suddenly I heard helicopters, and then shouting and shooting, a lot of shooting. The men had gathered up their weapons and were heading for the door when it burst open, and I saw a soldier in black standing in the door. The thugs started to raise their weapons, but the soldier blew them all away without even blinking. He came over to me and saw what they had been doing. I've never seen anyone so angry, his eyes were like ice.

"'We've got to get out of here,' he told me, so he cut my bonds and wrapped me in a blanket and threw me over his shoulder. As we came out of the house, I saw the other woman being helped by two other soldiers. Mine started running with me toward one of the helicopters, and I heard him talking on a radio attached to the vest he was wearing. He said 'Skyscraper, this is Paladin-6, we have the package, extracting now.'" Kate paused, her pulse racing as the memories flooded back.

Hayley interrupted, "How many of the Americans were there?"

"Maybe three dozen."

"So, a platoon, then, and your new friend was the platoon leader, probably a lieutenant. Did you stay in touch?"

Kate started weeping hysterically, and Hayley blinked. What did I say? She waited until the sobbing slowed and said, "I take it that means that you didn't stay in touch."

"No, we couldn't. When we got to the helicopter, we were under fire, and he was standing on the runner thing and handed me up to someone in the helicopter and the helicopter started to take off as he was climbing in. He was hit and lost his grip and fell back to the ground. The pilot didn't know, so we just left him there, and I know he's dead." Hayley could not find the words to lessen the pain that Kate was feeling, so she went back to the hug method and just held the other woman so she could let it all go for the first time in years.  
They must have sat there for an hour while Kate's sobs subsided and she gradually drifted off to sleep. Hayley gently eased her down on the couch and fetched a blanket to cover her. She went to Kate's kitchen and made herself a cup of herbal tea. It all made sense now. Kate subconsciously measured every guy she met against her paladin, the one man who had never failed her, who had fought for her and protected her even though it cost him his life. No flesh and blood man could measure up to that standard, and so she had kicked man after man to the curb.

Maybe it wasn't fair to say no one could measure up, because one Rick Castle was certainly taking a run at it. Kate had definitely seemed to be opening up toward him until they found the court-martial information. Her reaction was a clear indication that she was expecting it. She was used to being disappointed and had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, revealing Rick as just another man who would fail her.

She heard Kate stirring in the living room, and she quickly made another cup of tea. She carried it into the living room and sat it on the coffee table, just as Kate sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Thanks for being here for me. You're a lifesaver."

"Any time, girlfriend. Why don't you go grab a shower? It'll make you feel better."

"Okay. Why were you here to kick in my door, anyway?"

"Long story, so take your shower first, then we'll talk." Kate grimaced slightly "Don't worry, it's all good."

"It'd be the first thing good today…" She squinted at the time display on her cable box. 02:04, "…er, yesterday." She wandered down the hall and soon Hayley heard the sound of running water.

What a mess. I think I better have another talk with Rick; he's going to have a real minefield to negotiate with this one. I sure hope he's up to it. She heard the water stop, and shortly Kate appeared wearing a pair of yoga pants and an FBI t-shirt. She sat back down on the sofa and noticed the mug of tea, giving her friend a grateful smile. She sipped and then raised her eyebrows expectantly at Hayley.

"We were pretty hard on Rick last night."

"But Hayley, we saw—"

"We saw lies, Kate, damnable, stinking, rotten lies."

Hayley could see hope light her friend's face, only to be extinguished under the weight of yesterday's discoveries.

"He was convicted, we saw…"

"Yes, he was court-martialed, yes he was convicted, but I know for a fact that he didn't do any of the things he was accused of. He was innocent."

Hope flared again, stronger this time. "How can you be so sure? How do you know what to believe?"  
"Last night, after you left, I talked to someone who was there, who saw it all first hand, so I know what happened, and it wasn't anything like what was written into the record of the court-martial."

"Who?"

"My Uncle George."

"Your uncle was at Bandar Deylam?"

"Yep, we had a very interesting talk, which I happen to have recorded. I want you to listen to it." She pulled out her phone and activated playback. After placing the phone on the coffee table, propped up by her empty mug, she settled back to hear the ballad of Bandar Deylam for the second time.

Thirty minutes later Kate sat with tears streaming down her face, but her demeanor completely transformed. Hayley thought she could see the hint of a smile vying with the tears for pride of place on her beautiful face.

"You know he's crazy, right?" Kate whispered. "What kind of lunatic would fire off his last missile to convince the enemy that he had plenty?"

"You know what they say; everyone needs a little crazy in their life."

"I'll take that under advisement, but what I really need right now is a little sleep in my life. You want to crash here? I can drop you by your place to shower and change on the way in to work."  
"Sounds like a plan. But I'm curious about something."

"Jim and Johanna?"

"Yeah, how did they get involved?"

"My father arranged for me to be granted refugee status. Since I was a minor, I had to have a sponsor. Jim knew my father from law school and he and Johanna agreed to sponsor me. I had to change my name, so I changed it to Beckett. I've always thought of them as my mom and dad."

"What about Gavilan?"

"Well Halcon is Spanish for 'hawk' and I wanted to keep some link to my birth family so I chose Gavilan 'Sparrow Hawk' for my middle name.

Jordan Shaw awoke at her normal 5:30 to review her schedule and otherwise prepare herself for the day. It was going to be a bear, too, starting with a seven a.m. Cabinet meeting and ending with a 4 p.m. Senate Judiciary Committee hearing that was likely to last well into the night.

While she ate breakfast, she checked her phone for messages. There was a text from Rick, short and to the point as always. "Cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war." Thank God! Give me a good fight any time over all this skulking around. There was a second message that made her positively beam. Someone had accessed her military personnel file overnight. I told Rick those girls were clever. 


	21. Chapter 21

Tampa/Colorado Springs Friday October 7,  
Rick walked into his office at the Institute precisely at 08:00. He chatted briefly with Kathy before grabbing a cup of coffee and seating himself at his desk. Kathy had left him a fresh muffin, which he sampled appreciatively before devouring it, as he hadn't had time to stop for breakfast this morning. There was a sticky note on his monitor that read simply, 'Call Lainie,' so he activated the conference feature on his monitor and selected her from the drop-down list. She was not at her desk, but hurried in when she heard her computer chime.

"Good morning, Rick."

"Hey lady, what time did you leave last night?"

Lainie looked sheepishly at the monitor. "Two A.M."

"Better than I expected, actually. What do you have for me?"

"First, I had Russ vacuum the cylinders when they came in and we looked at the filters on the SEM last night. We found some pollen in the seals, so it came from where the cylinders were filled and not from the golf course. We were able to identify two different species: Fouquieria splendens and Olneya tesota. Since I'm not a botanist, I called your poker buddy Professor Urey over at the university, and she identified them for me.

"The Fouquieria is commonly known as ocotillo. It's a woody shrub native to the southwest. The Olneya is a little more useful. Its common designation is desert ironwood, and it is from the Sonoran desert biotope, which narrows it down to southern Arizona and a small chunk of northern Mexico."

"Good work. Put everything in an e-mail and I'll pass it on to the Bureau. Anything else?"

"Actually, I saved the best for last."

"Of course you did. Care to let me in on it?"

"Well, I was able to isolate some of the cells that the virus was cultured on. In fact, we were able to get enough for DNA analysis. It's a particular cell culture line that's unique to one researcher at the University of Iowa."

"I have told you that you're amazing, but have I told you often enough?"

Lainie giggled. "It gets better. This particular professor has his own recipe for culture media, so I compared his published recipe to the trace constituents in the cylinder. They were identical with less than one percent uncertainty."

"Yep, that proves it beyond doubt. You are officially amazing. That's the biological equivalent of a smoking gun. What's this guy's name, anyway?"

"Professor Tsiapinski, Miktov Tsiapinski."

Rick grunted sourly.

"Do you know him?" she asked.

"Only by reputation. He was number six on the list I was putting together for the Bureau. Maybe I'll move him up to number one now. How are you coming with the Tritium cylinder?"

"Nothing yet, not as much to work with there."

"Okay, keep after it. E-mail me the virus stuff, too; I think a road trip to the Bureau is in order." Rick spent the next hour and a half combing through research databases for geneticists who had published any work with IBC37A12. Breast cancer researchers were legion, but fortunately IBC was relatively rare, and the volume of research to examine was limited.

Even more limited were researchers working with the 37A12 codons. In fact, there were only four, and, surprisingly, one of them, a Professor Alton Jefferson, was right there at USF. Rick vaguely remembered meeting him at some faculty mixer or something, young guy, no more than early thirties. He quickly typed in the information on the four researchers and saved the file to his phone.

At precisely ten, Vienna tapped discreetly at his door and he waved her toward her favorite chair. This time she closed the office door behind her, which was unusual. Rick met her gaze as he left his desk to take the chair next to her. "I guess this means you got my message."

She nodded soberly, "We've been working toward this moment for a long time. It's just a little case of opening night jitters, I guess."

He understood. "You're thinking about the kids?"

"Yes, I know what this Monster is capable of."

"It's not too late…?"

Vienna shook her head adamantly. "No, Rick, we've had this discussion before. I can't stand the thought of my kids growing up in the kind of world the Monster wants. Would you?"

"Hell, no!" His mind went immediately to the unborn life he'd already lost to the Monster.

"Okay, then, what's our first objective?"

"The mastermind behind the attack yesterday."

"I'll get my folks working on it." One of Vienna's jobs that lacked any mention in her official job description was Director of Intelligence for Orion. Her organization was small, but like everything else at Orion, it was made up of the best people available, and every one of them had a reason to loathe the Monster. On a per capita basis, he put it equal to any intelligence agency in the world; in terms of motivation, it was in a class by itself.

The discussion continued for over an hour as they planned the opening campaign in a war that both knew would be long and difficult. Finally, Vienna excused herself to meet with her department heads. As she opened the office door, she turned and stated emphatically, "I think we should implement Option Whiskey."

Rick thought for a moment. Option Whiskey was the next-to-highest alert level in the Institute's operations plan. Rick and Vienna knew that when they came out of the shadows the Institute would be a likely target for attack. So they, along with Javier Esposito, had developed a series of plans named Tango, Whiskey, and Zulu. Tango was the normal state, Whiskey was a heightened level of alert if a threat was deemed probable, and Zulu was implemented when an attack was deemed imminent. Going to Whiskey would undoubtedly cause some raised eyebrows in the community if people noticed the changes, but it was a small price to pay to safeguard the people who worked at Orion. "I agree, implement Option Whiskey as of noon today."

Vienna nodded and left, giving Kathy a somber smile as she passed.

Rick's phone played the opening bar to Bach's Cantata 142, the signal that a text was coming in. He looked at the screen and smiled. Kate. In his experience, having a beautiful woman say 'I'll call you' was no guarantee that the happy event would actually occur. In this case, though, the universe seemed to have smiled upon him.

"Can you come to the office this afternoon? I have info."

He quickly banged out an answer, "Better idea, I'll pick you up and we talk over lunch." Cyber silence reigned for what seemed an eternity, but was clearly less since he held his breath the entire time.

"Okay, what time?"

"Be there in twenty." He waved at Kathy on the way out. "I'll be at the FBI."

He pulled the Range Rover into the FBI parking lot to find that Kate was just coming out, and he reached over to open the door for her. She slid in, looking mildly disappointed.

"What's the matter, Kate?" She shot him a startled look, and then he laughed. "You wanted to ride in the Ferrari, didn't you?"

She nodded "Yeah, I guess I'm kind of a car nut."

"Don't worry, you're in good company. I'll be sure to drive it next time. Do you like sushi?"

"Of course, doesn't everyone?"

"Good, then you're in for a treat." They made small talk for a few minutes until he turned in to the nearly deserted parking lot of an elegant building with modern but unmistakably Japanese architecture.

"Musashi!" Kate exclaimed in surprise. "I've been trying to get reservations here for the last four months." She noticed the scarcity of cars in the parking lot "Rick, I don't think they do lunch."

He walked around the front of the car to meet her as she hopped out. He offered her an arm and she tentatively placed her hand on it as they walked toward the entrance. "Things are not always as they seem, young Skywalker."

"Let me guess, you know the owner."

"Owners actually." He opened the heavy wooden door and followed Kate into the elegant foyer.

"Uncle Rick!" A young girl, Kate guessed about ten, launched herself across the foyer and into Rick's arms, her beautiful almond eyes wide with delight. "I haven't seen you in like forever." Rick spun her around a couple of times before placing a light kiss on the top of her head and setting her down.

"What are you doing here, Kami?"

"Teacher workday, so Daddy let me come to work with him."

The child turned to Kate, "I'm Kamika. That means spirit in Japanese"

"I'm Kate, and I'm pleased to meet you, Kamika."  
A man in a chef's tunic entered from a side door Kate hadn't noticed. He was about Rick's height but more slightly built, and Kate recognized him instantly from his appearances on one of her favorite TV shows, Iron Chef America. Iron Chef Akahiro Takayoshi might not exactly be a household name, but he was darn close. He and Rick shared a man hug with the two back slaps tradition demanded of close friends.

Kate stepped forward as he turned to face her. "Chef Akahiro, it is a great honor to meet you in person."

Rick indicated her with a sweep of his hand. "Akahiro, this is Special Agent Kate Beckett of the FBI"

"Ah, yes, Vienna told me about your visit to the Institute yesterday. She was most impressed."

"Akahiro, could you spare some lunch for a weary public servant?" He grinned at Kate.

"Of course, Rick-san, your table is always open."

Kamika addressed Kate, "Are you a special lady?"

Rick answered before Kate could formulate a response, "Yes, Kamika-chan, she's very special."

"Can I fix their lunch, Daddy? Pleasepleaseplease?"

Akahiro glanced at Rick, who nodded.

With an exuberant "Yeeaa!" the girl raced off to the kitchen.  
"Allow me to show you to our table, milady." Rick led Kate into the dining room and to a booth that was tucked into a corner, discreetly isolated from all the others. She recognized instantly what a perfect setting it was for a private meeting. Rick seated himself across from her as Kamika showed up with two glasses of iced tea. She placed them on the table and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Kate sipped hers "Wow, this is good."

"Organic green tea with plum nectar," Rick explained. "So now you've met my number one girl."

This is a side of Rick I hadn't expected, but I like it. Kate glanced after the girl. "I take it Kamika is your goddaughter?"

"Yeah, she's the light of my life."

Kamika appeared again, this time with a tray bearing two bowls of seaweed soup. Rick placed them on the table, and she raced off, this time to the sushi bar, where she started working industriously.

"She looks like she knows what she's doing," Kate observed, amazed.

"The producers of Iron Chef have said she can't be on the show until she's sixteen, but when she walks through that door, whichever Iron Chef is on deck is toast."

"Even her dad?"

"Oh, yes, even her dad. I told you, we're in for a treat!"

They busied themselves for the next few minutes enjoying the soup, which Kate found to be exquisite, quite unlike the mundane concoction that often masqueraded as miso soup. It disappeared all too soon, and Kamika appeared as if by magic to collect their bowls. She soon returned with a tray of sushi that took Kate's breath away. Everything was absolutely perfect, each selection artfully prepared and presented, even down to the garnishes that drew attention to the food, rather than away from it.

"I don't want to eat this, it feels like sacrilege," Kate whispered reverently.

"You have to eat it, though, or she'll be crushed"

"Can't have that!" and to match action to words, she used her chopsticks to transfer some items to her plate. Rick watched her look around perplexed for a few seconds before chuckling softly.

"Looking for something?"

She gave him a suspicious look. "Where are the condiments?"

"Probably on their way about now…"

As if on cue, Kamika approached with a bamboo tray containing four beautiful lacquer ware bowls. Two contained what appeared to be finely diced fruit and the other two were a brownish sauce that looked a bit thicker than the customary soy sauce. She held the tray while Rick transferred the bowls to the table, one of each for Kate and for himself.

After Kamika left, Rick pointed to the bowl with the sauce. "This is Kamika's secret sauce; it kind of takes the place of the wasabi and the soy sauce. The fruit is passion fruit/fresh ginger chutney; it takes the place of the pickled ginger. Just try it, you'll like it." He picked up a piece of the sushi and dipped the end into the sauce before popping it into his mouth. A beatific smile appeared as he chewed.

What the heck. Kate selected a yellowtail roll and dipped it tentatively. When she popped it into her mouth, she closed her eyes and moaned. She chewed meditatively and swallowed before opening her eyes. Rick was watching her with an expectant smile, and she whispered huskily, "Rick, I feel like my taste buds have just been made love to."

He choked and noted, "Might be a good idea to come up with a more age-appropriate compliment for Kamika; but just between you and me, I agree."

Further talk seemed almost sacrilegious, so they worked their way steadily through the tray of sushi, the only sounds the occasional moan of appreciation. Rick graciously ceded the last piece to Kate and sipped his tea until Kamika returned and he helped her clear the table.

"I guess in order to stay out of trouble with the suits we should at least pretend to discuss business. So, Kate what do you have for me?" He leaned forward.

"First, we were able to trace the two cylinders to the companies that manufactured them. We're still waiting for the manufacturers to trace the serial numbers to a specific customer, but we should have that by the end of the day.

Then we found that one of the SUVs that the terrorists used had a built-in GPS. We were able to trace its movements for the last two weeks. It seems to have spent a good bit of time in Phoenix before setting out for Florida."

"That correlates with the pollen Lainie found in the seals on the large cylinder. It was from a species that only lives in southern Arizona and northern Mexico." Rick thought for a minute. "Did the SUV make any obvious detours, or did it take the shortest route from Phoenix to here?"

Kate called up the file on her phone and passed it to Rick, who scrolled along, following the route. "Damn, I was afraid of that."

"What is it, Rick?" Kate frowned.

"They went through Colorado Springs on the way here. That's a pretty significant detour, wouldn't you say?"

"I would say. Do you think they dropped off some cylinders there and then came here?"

"That's exactly what I think and—"

"I'm calling the Bureau," Kate interjected and snatched back her phone to make the call.

"Good idea." He sat in thought while Kate completed her call.

"I gave them the location from the GPS, which should narrow it down to maybe a mile radius. They'll roll out everyone available to search that area."

"You know, one of the classic ways to utilize nerve agents is using spray tanks mounted on aircraft. The Iraqis used it that way against the Kurds. So my Spidey senses are telling me that we should be looking for an airfield. Hell, even a grass strip in someone's back yard would work in a pinch."

"Okay," she called again to pass that information to the special agent in charge of the Colorado Springs Office. Rick scrolled through his contact list. He noticed her greedy look as she peeked at the long list of names going by after she ended her call.

"Ah, hah," he exclaimed.

"Who are you calling this time? Elvis?" She smirked.

"Very funny, Agent Beckett. No, I'm gonna try to get us some air support. Oh, and you're not hearing any of the upcoming conversation."

Kate made a, zip my lip and throw away the key, motion then sat primly, her hands in her lap. Rick chuckled but finished initiating the call. Still, he knew the volume on the phone was loud enough that she'd probably hear both sides of the conversation.

"NORAD, Colonel Rivers speaking."

"Colonel, is General Jasper available?"

"No he just left…who the hell are you, anyway?"

"Now listen carefully, Colonel. In the top right drawer of your desk is a binder with a list of code words. Please retrieve it and inform me when you are ready."

"Who are you, you maniac? You can't just call up and—"

"Colonel, I Rick give one more chance to follow my orders. If you do not, I will have you trimming the greens on the base golf course with your teeth, do you copy?"  
"Copy, sir, I have the book. " Rick winked at Kate, whose eye's had gone round. This was the second time she'd witnessed him go pit bull on someone in authority, and she appeared unsure whether to be impressed or frightened. Maybe both.

"All right, Colonel, look up code word Archangel and do what it tells you."

"It says to ask for authentication, sir."

"Very good, Colonel. Do you have your authentication card?" Rick fished a thick plastic card out of his wallet, and snapped it in half like a fortune cookie to reveal a thin sheet, which he extracted and held ready.

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, authentication x-ray lima three seven five papa tango romeo."

"Very good, sir, code Archangel says you're equivalent to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs. What are your orders, sir?"

"First get General Jasper back…"

"He should be back momentarily, sir. Code word Archangel also says to go to Level 3 Alert."

"Good. In the meantime, Colonel, are there any mass gatherings in the Springs in the next couple of days that would make a good target for a terrorist attack?"

"Actually, sir, this is Pioneer Days weekend. There a hundred thousand people out there running around today participating in the festivities."

A new voice interrupted. "This is General Jasper, what the hell is going on here, who put us on alert?"

"I did, Barney. Rick Castle."

"Rick Castle!" the General exploded "I've always known Marines were crazy, but you gotta be the head crazy to pull a stunt like this." Kate heard the colonel whisper about authenticating Archangel and the General calmed down marginally. "Okay, Rick, you've got about thirty seconds to convince me not to call the FBI and have you arrested."

"That won't be necessary, Barney, I'm with the FBI right now."

"General," Kate joined in, "this is Special Agent Kate Beckett. I'm the lead investigator on the terrorist incident in Tampa. We believe the same people are planning an attack in Colorado Springs."

"I surrender, Rick. What do you need from NORAD?" The man's voice lost a bit of bluster.

Rick filled the general in on the suspicions he and Kate shared. The general saw the implications immediately. "Holy shit, the bastard could be in the air now!"

"Could be, and if he is, then we're screwed, but if he isn't…Barney, do you have a 16-Charley on hot pad alert?"

"Do big bears make baby bears in the woods?" the general quipped.

"I think it might be a good idea to get him in the air."  
"Good idea." They heard bits and pieces of the side conversation as the general gave orders to launch the F-16 that was always kept on alert since 9/11.

"Barney, do you have any idea how we can monitor the airspace around the Springs? One F-16 is not going to cut it."  
"Would an AWACS help?"  
"Hell, yes!" Rick immediately revised their likelihood of success upward when he added the airborne warning and control system to the equation. "What are you doing with an AWACS?'

"There's one here for orientation at the academy. You want it?"

"Can you do that?"

"You're the one with Archangel clearance, so you can tell them yourself."

Special Agent in Charge Sharon Rajac could read a map, and when she overlaid the GPS coordinates with the VFR aeronautical chart of the area, what became immediately apparent was that the area of interest was pretty much in the middle of nowhere, except for an airstrip marked with an R in a circle, designating a private or restricted strip. She met the gaze of her Hostage Rescue Team leader. "That's where we're going; I want you to get Marty into position to see what's going on there without being spotted." Marty was the team's sniper - an ex-Marine scout/sniper. "The chopper can come in behind this ridgeline to the south and drop me and Jackie at the foot of the ridge." Marty gestured at the map. "From the top we should only be about eight hundred yards from the field."

Sharon thought hard, but couldn't come up with a better option, so she waved them toward the chopper. "Let's get after it, then."

The chopper lifted off and headed toward the southeast, and Sharon and the other six agents available climbed into the waiting black Tahoes. The vehicles went to full lights and siren as they raced away.  
###

Rick and Kate stopped to say goodbye to their hosts quickly on the way out. Kate hugged Kamika and told her that she could not remember when she had such an amazing meal, leaving the child grinning from ear to ear.

Rick drove hard, using the accelerator more than the brakes, hitting the holes in traffic like an NFL running back. Kate divided her time between monitoring her phone link with Colorado Springs, spotting holes for Rick, and not shrieking in terror as he pushed the car to its limits. As they pulled into the FBI parking lot, Rick gave her a crooked smile. "Maybe I should get one of those light and siren things."

"Ya think?" She jumped out and ran for the entrance, with Rick pounding behind. "We'll use the conference room, better communications than my office." She ran into the conference room, fortunately unused, and started bringing up the video links to Colorado Springs.

Hayley walked by and saw her friend. "Kate…?" Then as she entered the room, her gaze traveled to Rick. "What's all the fuss about?"

"They're doing it again." Kate answered.

Understanding writ large on her features and she simply asked, "Where?"  
"Colorado Springs," Rick replied.

"How?"

"Rick thinks…" Kate nodded and smiled briefly at her luncheon companion, "…that they are going to use spray tanks on some type of aircraft."

"Ouch! I think we need to get Roy." Kate nodded and Hayley left at a fast walk. In about a minute she was back with Roy Montgomery, who looked a bit confused.

He nodded curtly at Rick, and addressed Kate. "What's going on, Kate? Hayley said something about another gas attack?"

"Yes, sir, in Colorado Springs."

"Colorado Springs…? Maybe you better start at the beginning." Ten minutes later, he rocked back in his seat, slightly shaken, but nevertheless impressed. Looking back and forth between Kate and Rick, he nodded approval. "Good work. If we're lucky, maybe we can stop this one before it happens."

"Agent Beckett, I have a report from my HRT sniper." The voice of Sharon Rajac filled the conference room.

"Go ahead, you're on speaker here," Kate replied. "Here with me are Special Agent in Charge Roy Montgomery, Special Agent Hayley Shipton, and Dr. Rick Castle."

"Okay, Marty is about eight hundred yards south of the field on a ridge that gives a good line of sight. He says there are two buildings. One is a concrete block type and the other is a Quonset hut with open ends. He can see into that one and there is an aircraft there with what looks like six subjects. Two are working on the plane and the others are more or less just standing around. Hold it a minute…He says that one of them is armed; looks like an AK-47."

"Sharon, can Marty identify the type of aircraft?" Rick leaned forward.

"He says that he's not a plane guy, but his spotter has imaging capability on her scope and she just sent me a picture. I'm forwarding it now." A picture appeared on the smart wall at the end of the conference room. Rick walked to the screen, squinting at the image of the plane, which was a bit grainy.

"Kate, can you zoom this a bit?"

"Sure." The image doubled in size and Rick grunted in recognition.

"Stearman."

"Is that significant?" Nicholson asked.

"Maybe. It's a biplane, capable of flying very low and slow, and it's extremely nimble. If the pilot knows what he's doing, he could probably tie an F-16 in knots, long enough to get in and deliver the goods. It's better if we can get it while it's still on the ground."

Sharon Rajac spoke up. "Could Marty take it out?"

Rick scratched his chin, then shook his head. "Stearmans are tough old birds; it would be difficult to disable one with a rifle. Be better to take out the pilot."

"We can't start blowing away people, just because they're acting suspiciously, Doctor." Nicholson commented frostily. "We have to follow protocol."

"My guys and I Rick be there in about twenty minutes; maybe we can take them down while the plane's still on the ground." Sharon rejoined the conversation.

Rick called General Jasper and put his phone on speaker. "Barney, the FBI has located what looks like the subject aircraft. It's an old Stearman, and it's still on the ground at a grass strip about sixty miles southeast of the Springs."

"Give me the coordinates, and I'll have the AWACS lock on anything that gets airborne like a mockingbird on a June bug."

Rick read off the coordinates from the aeronautical chart. "Where's your Viper, Barney?"

"Oh, about fifteen minutes out. How about I have him orbit about five miles southeast until the situation develops a little more?"

"Sounds good, Barney, thanks. I'll be in touch." He pressed END and a few seconds later Agent Rajac began a running commentary, stating that she had now established a video feed. Presently, the view was a lot of flat prairie, the image bounding sickeningly as the Tahoe negotiated the rutted dirt path.

Sharon Rajac muttered, "Uh oh."

"What's wrong?" Kate asked, her stomach twisting.

"We're leaving a big trail of dust. So much for surprise."

Ahmed Rahmani made the last connections to the cylinders in the specially built racks that had replaced the standard chemical hopper on the antique airplane. He knew that the cylinders contained a weapon of some type, but not the exact identity. Nor did he care. The Emir had assured him that the weapon would bring death and suffering to the Great Satan, and that was enough. He motioned to two of his companions to help him wheel the plane outside the shelter. He was the only Believer in the group; the rest were all infidels of various nationalities, so in the week that they had been here there had been very little fraternization. The three men lifted the tail, pushed the plane out, and turned it to face down the field.

"Aquí vienen!" the sudden cry from the sentry snapped Ahmed's head around. He did not understand Spanish, but one of his helpers did.

"Here they come, señor." Ahmed's gaze followed the man's pointing arm and experienced a momentary surge of adrenalin as he registered the dust plumes approaching rapidly. He could not see any vehicles yet, because of a low ridge to the north, but it had to be more than one from the amount of dust being kicked up.

Multiple vehicles arriving right at this moment could only mean one thing, and he cursed under his breath. The Americans had somehow discovered the plan and their authorities were heading his way. I wonder if they're soldiers or cops. If soldiers, it was possible that they might have enough firepower to interfere with the mission. If it was cops, then they were in for a rough morning. A feral thrill quickened his pulse as he watched the rest of the group hauling out weapons from hiding.

A light machine gun was passed to one group member, who then moved to a position where he could fire straight down the access road. Then two RPG launchers were distributed, the recipients spreading out and taking cover. Ahmed found himself praying that they were police.

The apparent leader turned again to Ahmed. "Señor, you fly, we fight!"

Ahmed nodded and raced to his aircraft to begin the pre-flight. As he ran through the checklist quickly, he briefly wondered why the unbelievers were willing to fight so that he could complete his mission. But the Emir had not shared that information, and he supposed it really didn't matter, as long as he got off the ground before the Americans could stop him. He had once been one of the best fighter pilots in the Saudi Air Force, and he was confident that once he got in the air the Americans would not be able to stop him. He completed his checklist just as the oncoming vehicles crested the ridge about six hundred meters away. The vehicles were two of the large truck-like cars that the Americans called SUVs. Not just police, then, he gloated, but the federal police they called FBI. His comrades had had many encounters with the American federal police, and the opportunity to pay back some of what they had suffered was delicious.

The soldier in Rick observed the agent's actions and was shocked when the video feed showed the vehicles continuing down the road and picking up speed. Rick started to intervene, only to receive a glare from Montgomery. He sank back into his seat, and his jaw clenched almost to the point of physical pain, because he knew that they had just missed their best chance to stop the plane before it took off.

If he had been in charge, he would have sent at least one of the vehicles cross-country to interdict the airstrip. The surrounding prairie was rough, and a Tahoe sitting in the middle of the strip would have effectively grounded the strike. He caught Kate's eye and she made a gentle patting motion—calm down—and he nodded and turned back to the screen showing the approach to the airstrip.

When things go bad, sometimes they go bad slowly and almost meditatively; but sometimes they come howling out of the dark and go directly for the jugular. When that happens, the majority of the human race Rick inevitably consult their highly evolved forebrain and are dead or dying before they finish the oh-so-elegant analysis it thrives on. The rest of the race has somehow maintained a more direct connection with the primitive reptile brain, and they instantly make a fundamentally simple decision: fight or flight. Those who flee we call survivors. Those who fight we call warriors.

Rick Castle, the theoretical physicist, the wealthy industrialist, the disgraced Marine, was a warrior to the core of his being. He had the instincts in his DNA, and skills that had been honed and perfected in combat.

When the RPG gunner lifted the launcher to his shoulder and drew a bead on the lead FBI Tahoe, Rick didn't need a crystal clear image to identify it, the jolt of adrenaline was sufficient to alert him, and he recognized the motion as surely as one would recognize the smile of a lover across a crowded room.

"Sharon! Stop the car now!" His command voice, flung electronically across the thousand-plus miles between Tampa and Colorado Springs, nevertheless had the power to drive the right foot of the driver onto the brake pedal at the same moment as a gout of smoke erupted from the launcher and a flaming terror streaked across the prairie to impact the windshield of the lead Tahoe.

If the three agents riding in the vehicle had been cats, they would have used all their allotted lives in less than a second. The sudden stop meant that instead of impacting directly on the driver's door, undoubtedly killing them all, the RPG only glanced off the windscreen, shattering the glass and streaked off to explode against a small hill in the distance.

FBI agents are cops, not soldiers, but it didn't take a soldier to realize that staying in the vehicles might not be the most intelligent thing to do under the circumstances. By the time the second gunner fired, the seven agents were out of the vehicles and far enough away that the explosions and subsequent fireballs were merely dangerous, not instantly fatal. Then the machine gun opened up, and two of the scrambling agents went down like thrown rag dolls. Kate bit her lip as her glance met his. He clenched his jaw in fury and frustration, and the muscles in his forearms corded with strain. It was maddening to not be able to intervene directly. She scooted around the table and placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

He looked up to meet her gaze, and understanding flashed between them, this was his area of expertise. He relaxed slightly. "Sharon, you still with us?" Rick asked. Montgomery straightened in his chair and opened his mouth as if to protest Rick's intervention, but a glare from Kate quashed his protest and he sank back into his chair.

"Barely. What do I do now?" Sharon replied.

"Keep your head down and wait," he instructed. "I'm going to get you some support. Barney, you still on the line?"

"Yeah, Rick, I'm still here. Did you think I was going to go grab a beer or something?"

"Barney meet Sharon, Sharon meet Barney. Barney is also known as Major General Barnard Jasper, Deputy Commander of NORAD, and Sharon is also known as Special Agent in Charge Sharon Rajac, FBI."

"Barney."

"Sharon."

"Sharon, I want you to consider your answer to this next question very carefully," Rick commanded. "Do you officially determine that local law enforcement is not able to protect the rights and safety of the people in this circumstance, and do you therefore officially request the cooperation of the Department of Defense?"

"Hell, yes! …Oh, damn, the plane just took off."

"Barney?"

"On it, Rick." The general was gone for a few seconds. "The AWACS has him locked up tight. Any reason to hold back?"

"None, and lots of reasons not to," Rick replied.

"Okay, consider it done."

"Barney, do you know anyone at Fort Carson?"

"Yeah, a couple. Why?"

"Well, I did promise Sharon some support."

"Exactly what kind of support did you have in mind?" The general asked.

"I was thinking something like a cavalry troop."

The general snickered. "You're joking. Right?"

Rick was surprised when Kate answered with a perfectly straight face. "He never jokes about cavalry troops."

"All right, I'll give them a call, but we may need that Archangel clearance of yours."

"No problem. I'll get the President to call them if necessary."

Hayley, who had been sitting quietly, spoke up. "I bet you have the President on speed-dial, don't you?"

Rick gave her a half smile. "Number one."

It took almost ten minutes for the duty officer at Fort Carson to verify Rick's credentials and patch his call through to Major General Philip Sheridan IV, commander of the 4th Infantry Division. Rick had hardly finished three sentences when the general interrupted.  
"I get it Mr. Castle, a troop of the 4th of the 10th rwill be in the air within 15 minutes, then we'll go kick some terrorist ass.

"I think I like this guy," Rick grinned at Kate. "When you care enough to send the very best send Marines - But the Buffalo Soldiers rick do in a pinch."

Sharon Rajac decided that this day would certainly make her list of personal worsts. She and her four remaining agents remained pinned down in the shallow ditch that bordered the dirt track. She could neither advance nor withdraw without being exposed to fire from that damned machine gun; and, further adding to a bad situation, the terrorists had taken to lobbing an occasional RPG at the agents whose locations they had marked. No one had been seriously hit yet, but it was only a matter of time.

It turned out that there had been six more terrorists inside the concrete block structure, so her team was heavily outnumbered. The terrorists had actually entertained the idea of moving out and mopping up her surviving agents, only to be dissuaded by the fact that the first one to leave the shelter of the building had a close encounter with a 165-grain Sierra Match King hollow point from the sniper's rifle. So now the situation had become a standoff, with neither side able to gain a decisive advantage.

"Sharon?" She recognized the voice of the man who had saved her life with his sudden order to stop.

"Yeah?"

"The cavalry is on the way. ETA forty minutes. Just hold on a little longer."

###  
Lieutenant Sam Watkins was pissed. No, make that royally pissed. He had been rushed to his aircraft, practically stuffed into the cockpit, and told to haul ass to Colorado Springs. No explanation or reason was given. Then, as he raced past the Air Force Academy at ten thousand feet, the deputy commander of NORAD had contacted him and ordered him to hold five miles southeast of town, but again no explanation. He was getting kind of tired of flying a continuous circle, just burning fuel to no purpose. "Dagger Flight, this is Scimitar, We have some work for you, over."

Lieutenant Watkins' adrenaline level climbed precipitately. Scimitar is an AWACS call sign. What the heck was an AWACS doing here? "Scimitar, I read you. What's the deal?"

"We have a bandit inbound to the town at this time, Dagger. Believed to be carrying chemical and/or biological weapons. Bandit is a Stearman crop duster. Your intercept vector is zero eight four and descend to one thousand. Weapons free."

Sam took a couple of deep breaths to steady his nerves as he banked to the correct heading and started to descend. Holy shit, this is serious.

"Dagger, the bandit is at your eleven o'clock, range three thousand meters. Current course is two eight five, current speed is niner zero knots, and current altitude is too low to register. He's right down in the weeds."

"Roger, Scimitar." Sam searched frantically, but couldn't pick up the bandit visually. "Scimitar, I can't get a visual on the bandit!"

"Dagger, bandit is now at your nine o'clock." Sam looked to the left, still no bandit. This was not fun anymore, and he felt sweat pop out on his forehead.

"Scimitar, I still can't get a visual…No wait, there he is! I've got visual Scimitar, damned thing is camouflaged, and it's really hard to see." Sam pulled the F-16 into a tight climbing turn to bleed off speed. He selected a Sidewinder, and maneuvered to get directly behind the bandit. The Stearman didn't deviate from its course, continuing to fly low and slow and directly toward the town.

It took the missile seeker a few seconds longer than he expected to lock on. "I've got tone." He squeezed the trigger on his stick and the missile raced ahead with the peculiar wavy flight that gave the missile its name, "Fox Two." The pilot rolled the sleek fighter to the left so he could watch the missile all the way in. It appeared to be tracking flawlessly, until at the last possible second the antique biplane rolled hard left and dove into a dry gulch that ran at right angles to the original flight path. The proximity fuse on the missile detonated as it flashed past the Stearman, but only a few isolated fragments hit the target, and none did any meaningful damage.

"Damn…it missed!" the pilot's voice came out ragged with shock and confusion. Nevertheless, he pulled sharply back on the controls, sending the jet into a loop. As he came out of the loop, he rolled left and strained forward against his harness, his eyes sweeping the area for the bandit. Perspiration was now running into his eyes, and he felt the wetness of his gloves as he clutched the controls with a death grip.

"Where the hell is he… There! There he is!"

Kate was the only occupant of the conference room not on the edge of her seat listening to the audio feed from the F-16. From her position next to Rick, she intently studied his body language instead. His eyes were half closed and his clenched fist jerked back and forth, as if he were trying to control the F-16 from afar. He was not much of a spectator, this man of hers; when some desperate feat of derring-do was called for, Rick was always the first to answer the call.

"What is it, Rick?"  
"The guy in the Stearman is a pro, probably a cagey old ex-fighter jock. The kid in the F-16 is in way over his head. I have a bad feeling about this."  
"There's nothing you can do, Rick. We're more than a thousand miles away, so we just have to listen and pray for—" She turned slightly to face the smart board as she heard, for the second time.

"Fox Two."

A pregnant couple of seconds passed, terminated by an agonized gasp from the young pilot. Damn…"Missed again! This is not supposed to happen."

Rick felt the panic rising in the young pilot as if he was in the cockpit himself. Lt. Sam Watkins was their only hope for stopping the strike before it reached its target and he might as well have been up against the Red Baron; the young man was overwhelmed, his confidence shredded.

Young pilots, weaned on technology, tended to place an almost mystical trust in missiles. When the high-tech weapons failed, they tended to lose confidence, not only in the technology, but also in themselves.

Rick thought of all the toes he had already stomped on today, and quickly weighed the cost of a few sensitive appendages against a hundred thousand lives. No contest. "General Jasper, can you patch me through to the pilot?"

"Why yes, but wh…"

"Just do it."  
Maybe ten seconds passed. "Okay, Rick. You got it."

"Dagger flight, this is Gunslinger, do you read me?

The pilot's voice was high pitched and thready. "Who the hell are you, Gunslinger?"

"Someone who's been where you are right now. I think I can help you splash this bastard if you want my help."

"Are you a pilot, sir?" The pilot already sounded marginally calmer, and Kate put her hand on Rick's forearm.

"You might say that, Lieutenant. Do you know how many Marines have made ace since World War II?"

"No sir, I don't.

"Two, Lieutenant. I'm one and my co-pilot was the other."

"Castle?" the pilot gasped.

"You got it. What's your call-sign, Lieutenant?"

"Yoda, sir."

"Meaning that you're either vertically challenged, or you're green with large ears. Which is it, Lieutenant?"

"Five foot four. Sir."

"Okay, Yoda, here's what I want you to do. Get yourself some separation and get ahead of this guy. He's good, but he is going to be watching his six like a hawk, since that's the direction both of your previous attacks have come from. He also probably knows you're Winchester—out of missiles—so he'll be expecting you to close for a Fox-three. Unless he's got eyes in the back of his head, he's going to be fixated on his six, so you're going to pull ahead a couple of miles and turn and come in on a reciprocal heading and I need you to get low Lieutenant. If you don't come back with tumbleweeds in your intake, I'll personally bust you back to private."

"Yes, sir, bring back tumbleweeds, sir. I've got it."

"Scimitar, you been listening?"

"Yes, sir, we copy. Do you need a vector?"

"Affirmative, Scimitar, give Yoda the vector, and let's hope this mutt doesn't get creative in the next five minutes."

"Roger that, Gunslinger"

Rick relaxed marginally and covered Kate's hand with his. "I hope this works."

"Me too, but at least you talked the pilot down out of the tree." Kate gave his hand a light squeeze.

"We're only going to have time for one gun pass, If Yoda misses, the Stearman will be over the town before he can reset for another pass."

Kate rubbed her arms. "Is there nothing else that we could do?"

"Not we. Yoda would have to do what needs to be done."

"What would he have..? Oh damn!" Her hand went to her mouth in shock.

Rick looked at her somberly, "Kate, it's something every fighter pilot knows they might face someday. On 9/11, a lot of the fighters that were launched to protect different cities had to take off without ordinance. Those pilots took off knowing that if there was a hijacked airliner inbound to their city, there was only one option.

"Oh damn!" she repeated. "Would you have…?"

"Yes." He nodded and a haunted kind of look arose in his eyes. His next words were spoken softly and she had to lean in to follow his words.

"I was in Times Square that morning. I had dropped someone off at the airport, and then I met my sister for lunch. People started shouting about planes hitting the World Trade Center, and we were all standing in the square watching the news coverage on the big screens when two F-16s from the New York Air National Guard roared overhead. They were the first to arrive to protect the city from additional attacks. It was a heady moment and everyone on the ground was cheering wildly. Except…."

"Except for whom?" she asked with tenderness.

"Me—except for me. I noticed that they weren't carrying weapons and all I could think about was those two pilots. I'm sure they expected more attacks and they had already come to terms with what they had to do. Bravest damn thing I ever saw."  
They sat quietly for the next few minutes, listening to the interchange between the AWACS and the pilot as he made his final turn and descended. He was now on a direct collision course with the Stearman. ###

Lieutenant Sam Watkins' nervousness had vanished, replaced by a grim determination to carry out his mission. He actually found it exhilarating to be streaking along at no more than fifty feet above the prairie, but he forced himself to focus out the front.

"Tally ho! Bandit at twelve o'clock, range 2000 meters."

Sam instinctively armed his gun and lightly rested his right forefinger on the trigger. The bandit grew rapidly as the range dropped, and at 200 meters, Sam squeezed the trigger. "Fox-three." The stream of tracers impacted almost dead center on the nose, shredding the engine and igniting the fuel tanks in a cataclysmic explosion. "Splash one!" Sam's voice rang out as he sent the Fighting Falcon streaking for the heavens while the AWACS; the operations room at NORAD and the conference room in Tampa erupted in cheers and applause.

"Yoda." Rick called out.

"Yes, sir."

"Besides being short and green, there's one other thing we know about him."

"What's that sir?"

"He was a kick-ass warrior. Well done, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir. That means a lot, coming from you."

"Rick?" General Jasper asked.

"Yeah, Barney."

"Rick, I always wondered if you pulling my kid brother out of that hell-hole in Serbia was just dumb luck or if perhaps it was something more. Now I know. Well done, Marine."

"Thanks, Barney. I'll get out of your hair now and let you get on with it." He killed the connection and rocked back in his chair, rubbing a weary hand across his forehead.

Kate placed a steaming mug of coffee by Rick's arm. He looked up and mouthed a silent thank you. Kate resumed her seat and turned her attention to the video feed from Sharon's HRT sniper team. Rick remained tilted back in his chair, sipping his coffee as he frowned at the ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" Kate asked as she laid a gentle hand on his forearm.

Rick allowed his chair to return to its normal upright position and he turned to meet Kate's appraising stare. He made a valiant effort to don his poker face, but it was a wasted effort. Kate wouldn't be fooled. There was no way he could pass off the marrow-deep dread that was suddenly enfolding his heart as something innocuous like nervousness.

"Uhhh, nothing, just tired."

Kate shot him a glare that would have shriveled a pachyderm and leaned in until her lips were mere fractions of an inch from his ear. "Don't you dare lie to me Mr. Castle."

"Sorry, I'll tell you after I know Sharon and her folks are safe."

"Okay, but I'll hold you to that."

A sudden gasp from one of the other occupants drew their attention back to the video feed from the HRT spotter. Something had taken up a position that almost blocked the view through the scope. Kate turned to Rick for an explanation, but he was speaking.

"Sharon?"

"Yeah, I'm still here."

"Can you ask your spotter to reduce the magnification on her scope?" Rick urged. The tension in the conference room ratcheted up a couple of notches in the thirty seconds before the image zoomed out to show a panoramic view of the area surrounding the airstrip. It was quickly apparent that the object that cut off the view was a helicopter. It was hovering motionless about fifty meters from the position of the sniper team; the predatory menace almost palpable, even from a thousand miles away. The spotter panned her scope to the right, revealing a second helicopter hovering five hundred meters to the east.

"What are those things?" Kate asked.

"Helicopters." Rick answered with a hint of smirk.

"I know they're helicopters," she snapped. "What kind of helicopters?"

"Gunships," Rick replied. "AH64 Apaches."  
The AH-64s were carrying four nineteen-round Hydra rocket pods each, and by common consent or some unseen signal, they ripple-fired the rocket pods into the cluster of buildings. The rockets arrived in a steady stream, about one every second. It was over in less than a minute, but to those watching it seemed endless. The buildings were reduced to rubble and scrap metal, and then the rubble and scrap metal were tossed about by subsequent explosions, It was a case of massive overkill, but Colonel Donovan had said to bounce the rubble, and these two young pilots were especially inclined to follow orders when they involved turning murdering terrorist sons of bitches into chop suey.

The Apaches hovered for a few seconds to allow the smoke to clear, and then opened up with the thirty-millimeter chain gun mounted under the nose, and the gunners walked the streams of tracers back and forth across the site.

Four additional helicopters, entered the arena. "UH-60 Blackhawks," Rick offered, preempting Kate's question. "These will be carrying troops." The four Blackhawks landed about fifty meters from the demolished airfield, and the troops inside hit the ground running. There was no resistance, and after a quick search the platoon leader gave the all-clear signal. Only then did the last four aircraft make their appearance. These were also UH-60 Blackhawks, but carrying medical personnel and configured for medevac. The Blackhawks touched down near the road and the medics onboard piled out went to work on the wounded agents.

Sharon Rajac had been hunkered down in the roadside ditch for so long that she had difficulty standing, but she forced her body to cooperate, and she was standing tall when the first Blackhawk touched down and disgorged its medical team. Hey, Beckett, you still there?"

"Still here," Kate replied. "I'm glad you're okay."

"I need to speak to the mystery man."

It took Kate a second to realize that Sharon was talking about Rick. "You must be talking about our gung ho Marine. He's still here. "

"Hello Sharon, Rick Castle here." His voice came through deep and strong.

"I just wanted to thank you. I don't know how you did it, but you saved our asses. If you're ever in the Springs, I insist that you stop by and let me buy you a couple of rounds."

"It's a date, Agent Rajac, and the same goes if you're ever in Tampa."

"I guess I better go now; this nice medic is glaring at me. Thanks again."

Rick suddenly stood and announced, "I think I could use some fresh air, if you all would excuse me." He walked out without waiting for an answer.

Kate was shocked by his abrupt departure, and she rose, but on second thought hesitated to follow him, unsure of what was happening.

She glanced over at Hayley, who jerked her head in the direction Rick had taken and mouthed the word, "Go."

Nodding, Kate hurried down the hall toward the main entrance. She entered the lobby and the receptionist smiled and pointed toward the parking lot. She burst through the entrance and looked toward the visitor parking lot. The green Range Rover was still there, and she breathed a quick sigh of relief.

Where is he? She scanned the area quickly, but no Rick. Now she was starting to get a little worried, because she had no idea what had prompted him to leave so abruptly. By all rights, he should be celebrating and taking justly deserved bows, but instead he had walked out without explanation, and the look on his face had not been one to induce a case of the warm fuzzies.

She was still struggling to understand his expression as she searched the parking lot on tiptoe, when it occurred to her that what she had seen was pain. She had no idea whether it had been emotional or physical, but the realization that it had been pain increased the intensity of her search.

Finally she forced herself to slow down and scan the area systematically. There! A small, almost imperceptible motion in her peripheral vision turned her in that direction with sureness she would never be able to explain. He was sitting on the wall surrounding a clump of dwarf date palms that had almost masked his presence. He was leaning over, his elbows resting on his knees and his face buried in his hands.

As she approached, she could sense as much as see the tremors that racked his body. She came to an abrupt halt, swamped with indecision, her heart screaming hug and her head screaming run with equal intensity.

The old Kate would have run without hesitation, run fast and far. Debilitating fear had bedeviled her for the past twenty seven years of her life, and wielded a whip that drove her away from anything that resembled an intimate relationship.

The new Kate was not quite ready for hugs, but neither would she run. As Rick had led her to do repeatedly in the last few days, she would stand and fight. She cleared her throat to get his attention, and he turned his face to her, the tear tracks still visible. She gestured toward a spot next to him, eyebrows raised, and he nodded, a minuscule movement, but clearly permission to sit. Kate sat, their knees no more than the thickness of a dollar bill apart, and she forced herself to take his hand in a strong but gentle grip, weaving their fingers together.

###  
They sat for several minutes, while his tremors faded away. He dropped his other hand to cover their linked fingers. Palpable warmth seemed to generate in the joined hands, and it spread and suffused his whole body. Judging by her soft gasp, Kate felt it too.

Hearing the small sound, Rick turned slightly to look her more directly in the eye. "I'm sorry, Kate."

"Rick, you just saved the world for the second time in three days. What are you sorry about?"

"Firstly, I'm sorry that I ran out like that. I could feel it coming on, and I didn't want anyone to see me lose it."

"You have PTSD." More statement than question.

"Yeah." He subconsciously tightened his grip on her hand. "That's the third flashback this week."

"Rick?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you back off on the death grip a little bit? My arm's going numb."

"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry, I…"

"It's okay, really, I'm not going anywhere. Listen, no one can know what's going on inside you, but I can feel your pain because I've been fighting a losing battle with PTSD for the last twenty plus years."

Her confession rocked Rick, like a sucker punch delivered by a heavyweight contender. He had been so caught up in her confident, take charge, kick-ass persona (and to be totally truthful, her smokin' hotness) that he had missed any sign that she had similar demons. "I didn't know."

"No reason you should've. I've been told that I'm a shoo-in for an Academy Award if I ever decide to give up chasing bad guys and go to Hollywood."

Rick nodded, was still for a few moments then changed the subject. "It was a close-run thing."

"Yes, it was," Kate said and waited for him to continue.

"What if the flashback had happened a half hour earlier? I'd have the blood of a hundred thousand people on my head. I don't think I could live with that."

She squeezed his hand, "Have you ever had a flashback in the heat of battle, in any kind of intense and dangerous situation?"

"No, not yet."

"See there? I don't think the Rick Castle I've come to know and lo…uh, appreciate, would ever let that happen. There is no one I'd trust more than you to have my back in a fight."

He made full eye contact for the first time, and Kate returned it.

"Thank you," he whispered.  
"You're …uh… welcome." She tore her eyes away, and stood abruptly. "I'd better get back inside."

"I guess I'll go too, then. It's been a long day. I'll forward the rest of Lanie's findings to your e-mail."

"I'll call you." She hurried back towards the office.

As she disappeared, Rick slammed his fist into the top of the wall. "Ow!" Probably not the smartest thing he'd done today.

What the hell just happened? Things were going quite well. Kate did not seem to be at all put off by my flashback, and she even voluntarily shared her own struggle with PTSD. Then, when I turned to look at her, wham, she closed up and ran off. What did I say? I swear this woman is going to be the death of me. 


	22. Chapter 22

He rose to his feet with a sigh and his broad shoulders slumped as he trudged to the Range Rover. He climbed in and pulled out of the parking lot, conducting an internal debate about where to go. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he had been more reluctant to go home to an empty house.

On a whim, he turned right and drove south for a few minutes. A large sign caught his attention. The Blue Agave, it read in lurid blue neon. He remembered reading that the bar was supposed to be the hottest place in town. What the hell, he wheeled in to the parking lot. His Spidey senses were tingling, but he was too pissed off at the universe to care. However, he did retrieve his badge holder and detach the lanyard so he could stash it in the inside pocket of his blazer. He also plucked the compact Springfield XD .45 out of the console and clipped it onto his belt, positioning it on his right hip so his blazer would cover it.

He walked in and stopped to recon the surroundings. There were quite a few people already, even though it was still early. Most of the tables and booths were taken, and the dance floor was well populated. There was a live band, and even though the music was not to his taste, the musicians seemed skillful.

He noticed one empty seat at the bar and headed toward it. A young man with the build of an NFL linebacker occupied the seat to the left. He seemed to be in deep conversation with a brunette next to him. A woman occupied the seat to the right. She appeared to be in her early twenties, and with her shoulder-length strawberry blonde hair was extremely attractive. As he walked up, he appreciated the legs revealed by a dress that was a little too short for sitting on a barstool.

"Is this stool taken?" he asked of no one in particular.

The blonde turned, and her smile brightened considerably. "No, it's not taken."

The man turned and scowled. "You'll be sorry if you don't move on. That's Chuck's seat and one of Chuck's girls. He'll hurt you if you mess with either one."

Rick sat down and the blonde winced and shook her head. "You should listen to him, I guess, instead of me. Chuck's already thirty minutes late, and he's going to be in a really bad mood."

"I've never really been too frightened of people named Chuck."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," said the blonde, "but while we're waiting for Chuck, how about buying a lady a drink?"

"What's your name? I don't buy drinks for strangers."

"Bethany," the strawberry blonde replied with a coy smile.

"Okay, Bethany, I'll buy you a drink, although we both know you're no lady." He signaled to the bartender. "Vodka martini, shaken not stirred, always wanted to do that and whatever the lady's drinking."

Bethany ordered a Cosmo and asked with a seductive lilt.

"Who are you? James Bond?"

"Something like that. So Chuck is your pi…?" Rick sensed someone at his shoulder and saw Bethany's eyes widen just as the man on the barstool next to him kicked his stool out from under him, sending him crashing to the floor. He rolled and tried to stand, but the stool tangled in his legs, and it took him a few extra seconds to gain his feet.

The interval was long enough for a newcomer to grab Bethany by the throat and viciously slap her forward and back twice. "You stupid slut. You know damn well they have to pay to chat you up over drinks."

"Chucky," Bethany sobbed, "I was just trying to get some business."

"You stupid bitch, how many times do I have tell you that I get the business and all you have to do is spread your—"

Rick clamped Chuck's right arm in a vise-like grip and spun the creep around to meet a punch driven by all the anger and frustrations of the day.

The punch would have prostrated a buffalo, and Chuck was no buffalo. A geyser of blood and broken teeth erupted. Before Chuck's body had hit the floor unconscious, his bodyguard, the man who had kicked the stool out from under Rick, went for his handgun.

Chuck had distracted Rick, so he didn't notice the bodyguard until the piece was almost halfway out. It didn't really matter, for no one had ever gotten the drop on a Castle in a face-to-face confrontation. Rick's draw was so fast that afterward the patrons could not remember the draw itself, only that the .45 seemed to magically appear six inches from the thug's nose before he had half raised his own weapon. "Drop it or I'll kill you where you stand."

The thug looked into the icy gaze and saw death. He let his weapon clatter to the floor.

"Face down on the floor," was the next command, and the thug obeyed with alacrity. Rick retrieved the man's Glock and cleared it. He ejected the magazine and put it in his pocket before he laid the empty pistol on the bar.

Then he turned to Bethany, who was sitting on the floor sobbing. He bent down and gently scooped her up and re-deposited her on the barstool. Her cheeks were starting to bruise, so Rick motioned to the bartender.

"Ice pack, please."

The fellow rushed to comply.

"I don't know who you are," the barkeep remarked as he handed over the ice pack. "But I've called the cops."

Rick handed the ice pack to Bethany and then reached for his badge holder and flipped it open, presenting the silver, six-pointed star for the bartender's inspection. "Inspector Castle, U.S. Marshals."

"What about him?" The bartender nodded toward the unconscious Chuck.

"I hope he chokes on his own blood, but feel free to call an ambulance if that floats your boat."  
Rick noticed that people were starting to file out. So he called out, "Hey, folks, sorry to interrupt your evening. How about I make it up to you by giving everyone drinks free for the rest of the night?" And just like that, there was a stampede back into the bar and the band started to play again.

The bartender looked apoplectic until Rick pulled out his credit card and tossed it onto the bar. "Just charge whatever you think is right."

The bartender's hand shook as he picked up the solid black titanium rectangle. He'd likely never seen an actual American Express Centurion card before, but he apparently knew what it was.

Rick turned back to the woman on the barstool. She looked like hell, but he didn't see any indication of permanent damage. He picked up his glass and sipped the martini appreciatively.

"You really are James Bond, aren't you?"

He chuckled. "Close enough, I guess."

The cops arrived quickly, accompanied by paramedics. One of the uniforms approached Bethany with a pair of handcuffs, and she shrank back, panic building in her eyes.

Rick stepped forward instantly, displaying his badge. "Officer, she's with me." The cop studied Rick for a few seconds, then gave a small nod and shifted his attention to the bodyguard who was still prostrate on the floor. The cop snapped the handcuffs into place and hauled the thug to his feet. The paramedics finished loading Chuck onto a gurney and rolled him out to the waiting ambulance. Rick finished his martini and retrieved his Amex card. The bartender presented him with a bill for fourteen thousand dollars, which he signed without comment.

Then he thought for a moment before turning to Bethany. "If you want help, I'll help you, but no fooling around. You have to really try to get your life together." Rick noticed her frightened, ambivalent reaction, and a fleeting thought of his mother emerged from long-suppressed memories. I should've been there. I could've saved you. He choked back a sob. That worthless bastard meth dealer let you lie on the floor and bleed out and I wasn't there. Why? Why was I here to save her, a hooker for God's sake and I wasn't there for my own mother. There was no answer that made sense, so he schooled his features and turned back to the girl

"Bethany," he spoke as soothingly as he could, "I want nothing from you. My offer has no strings attached."

She scoffed. "You're a guy and you all want the same thing. Chuck said he wanted to help me too, and you see where that got me." She started sobbing again, soul-deep; bone shaking sobs that tore at his heart.

His hug reflex was spurring him on with sharpened rowels, but he knew that would be a truly disastrous course of action. Between Kate and Bethany, suppressed hug reflex was becoming a significant mental health issue.

Kate rushed from the parking lot back to her office. She closed the door and just sat at her desk in silence, staring at the polished wooden surface as a confusing swarm of thoughts tumbled about in her mind. Why did I shut down so unexpectedly, why did I open up so much to Rick, why did he not spurn me when he confronted my brokenness up close. What was it in his past that made him as broken as she was…and did she even want to know?

Hell yes! It was his eyes—those damned wonderful, warm, soulful blue eyes that had reached into her deepest self and taken tentative possession of something she thought was dead, decayed, and interred forever in a mausoleum of cold stone, the part of her heart that made her vulnerable, made her want, made her body tremble with anticipation. And that frightened her. Terrified her, actually, because no other man had ever touched that part of her. No one had even tried.

Hayley chose that moment to knock on her door, and eased it open when Kate choked out, "Come in."

The tears coursing down her friend's cheeks brought her up short. "I take it you weren't able to catch Rick?"

Kate shook her head. "I caught up to him. He had a PTSD flashback and left because he didn't want anyone to see him like that. I sat down and told him about my own problem with PTSD, and we kind of locked eyes, and it felt so damn good that it scared the crap out of me, and I kind of ran off. He probably thinks I'm a lunatic."

Hayley kicked Kate's guest chair over to her desk and flopped down with a deliberately overdone gesture of exhaustion. She sighed, "You two are going to turn me into a lunatic. Why can't you two just admit there might be something between you and dig in together and figure it out?"

"I think it scares me because I sense something amazing, but I have no real experience to weigh it against to see if it's as amazing as I think."

Hayley nodded. "I get that, but the only cure for inexperience is experience, and it might as well be with Rick as anyone." She paused for a moment, "Let me try to cut the Gordian knot.

Do you trust Rick?'

Kate took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Do you trust him with your life?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you trust him with your heart?"

A tear escaped and trailed down her cheek. "I want to, but I'm not sure. I'm not even sure I know how to do that."

"Why not?"  
"Because it's never happened before, that's why. After what happened when I was ten, I didn't even date until I was in my second year of law school. I met Drew at a mock trial where I was the prosecutor and he was the judge. He asked me out for coffee, and I went. He seemed so patient and kind and understanding, and I really felt myself opening up to him."

"Were you falling in love with him?" Hayley asked, fascinated by all this new information.

Kate pulled open a desk drawer and grabbed a tissue before answering. "If you had asked me then, I probably would have said yes. But now, looking back, I don't really think so. We had been dating casually for about six months, and I had worked up to holding hands, light hugs, and even a goodnight kiss on the cheek.

"I was so proud of myself, but then he started pressuring me to have sex. I kept telling him I wasn't ready, but he just kept pushing. One night, instead of taking me out, he invited me to his apartment, said he had a surprise for me. Like an idiot I went. When I got there, he offered me a margarita. You know I've never been able to turn down a margarita, and the next thing I knew I woke up naked in his bedroom with bruises all over me and a hangover that didn't come from tequila."

"Oh God, Kate, what did you do?"

"I got dressed and went into the kitchen. He was there eating breakfast and he asked how it felt to be liberated. I asked him why he did it, and he laughed and said it was for my own good."

A fresh burst of sobs racked Kate's small frame, and Hayley felt a surge of murderous fury rip through her. Fortunately, the object of her fury was not in the vicinity to be instantly dismembered. She took a couple of deep breaths to calm herself while Kate's sobs subsided and she continued her story.  
"I left his apartment and drove straight to the hospital and reported the rape. They had him nailed: DNA, the drug he used was found in his apartment, the whole deal. But his fancy lawyer got the case thrown out on some obscure technicality and it never made it to trial."

"You're not thinking Rick would try to force you to have sex, are you?"

"No, but to be honest, sometimes he scares me a little bit. I don't think he would hurt me, but you remember that jackass that tried to get handsy with me at the club last Friday night?"

"Oh yes, I remember. You gave him a concussion." Hayley laughed.

"What do you think Rick would have done if he had been there?"

Hayley thought for a second, turning a little pale as she painted the scenario in her mind. "If he thought the guy was hurting you?" Kate nodded and Hayley continued, "Rick would have gone caveman on him. He would have ripped his arm off and beaten him with it."

"Exactly," Kate nodded.

"I'm not sure I see the problem, though. What girl doesn't dream of a white knight to fight for her sometimes?"

"This girl, for one. I've pretty much decided they're extinct. And I'm not sure Rick would be one even if they do exist."

Hayley rocked back in surprise, "Why do you say that?"

"Rick is a warrior, I'll give you that, but white knights are supposed to be more than just warriors," Kate said earnestly, "They're supposed to be kind and gentle and compassionate. They're supposed to be helpful and generous and idealistic…"  
"And Rick?" Hayley asked.

"What do we really know about Rick, Hayley? Other than that he's fierce, smart, and rich? Would you give your heart to a guy just because he was smart, fierce, and rich?"

"Well…uh...I…no, I guess not." Hayley was not completely shocked to hear such sentiments, as she had felt some trepidation herself in Rick's presence. Manifestly, he was not a man to be trifled with, and he had shown a degree of ruthlessness that neither had ever personally encountered before. He was also a man who could wield an incredible amount of power when he chose to do so. In spite of his little joke about having the queen on speed dial, Hayley would not have been at all surprised if he had.

But on the positive side, he had, without question, saved an untold number lives, including theirs. He was also a popular boss and had many people who respected him.

Maybe that was it. They had only met Rick three days ago, and in that time they had been totally immersed in Rick's warrior incarnation. There had been tantalizing glimpses of the broader aspects of his character, but so far only glimpses, and Kate was not about to offer up the fragile, battered, part of herself on the basis of a glimpse. It would take proof…clear, unambiguous, incontrovertible proof.

Hayley closed her eyes in thought for a minute. How could she communicate her theory about Rick in a way that would speak to Kate's heart, which would challenge her to be open to what the two of them could become, given half a chance?

"Can I share something with you?" Hayley asked.

"Share what?" Kate groaned. "Something else I don't know about him?"

"No, nothing like that, just a metaphor that tries to capture what I know and what I've sensed about our professor."

"Oh, okay, let's hear it." Kate answered.

"I want you to imagine a deep mountain lake. The waters of this lake are clear and pure, but so deep that that the bottom of the lake is invisible from the surface. The lake is normally quite placid, serene, and beautiful. Picturesque villages surround it where people go about their daily lives in peace and prosperity. Children splash happily in the shallows. Boatmen move cargoes safely from place to place. Fathers pull delectable fish from the depths to feed their families, and in the evenings, lovers stroll along the banks or row out onto the lake to enjoy its warmth and solitude." Hayley paused, and almost chuckled at Kate's rapt attention.

"What are you stopping for?"

Hayley grinned at her and continued. "But the lake has a secret. In the very deepest depths, where the light of the sun never penetrates and where no diver has ever ventured, there lurks a creature, a fierce and powerful creature. Leviathan is his name. Normally he is calm and serene, like the lake, because he is the lake, just as much a part of it as the water, or the lily pads, or the fish. The lake provides and protects.

"But when great evil or great calamity threatens, Leviathan is summoned, and he comes roaring up from the depths, vengeful, unstoppable…until calamity is averted and evil retreats for a while. Leviathan returns then to his lair, but he is always there, always waiting, always watching, always protecting."

"That's a pretty rich metaphor for a cop, girl. Did you ever think of being a writer?" Kate asked.

Hayley chuckled softly. "Only after I've had three or four mojitos."

"So, you're saying I should give Rick a chance?" Kate asked.

"Yes, weeeellll, not exactly, I'm saying that so far all you've really seen is Leviathan. In that context, you've already given Rick several chances, and he hit the ball out of the park every time, right?"

Kate pondered for a moment. "I think I know what you mean," she allowed. "He's not like anyone else I've ever run into before, that's for sure."

"Nope, me either. And then there's the fact that you've known him for three whole days now and you haven't kicked him to the curb yet. That's a record for you."  
"So what do I do?"

"Look for the lake. I'm almost positive it's there, you just have to look for it." Hayley responded.

"Then what?"

"Throw a saddle on that monster, put the spurs to him, and hold on for the ride of your life!"  
"Speaking of mojitos, what do you say we grab a couple on the way home from work?" Kate ventured.

"Yeah, sounds like a plan; it's been that kind of day. Hey, look! It's 5:01. I think it must be a sign from the universe."

They started to gather their things after Kate logged off and powered down her computer. As her hand touched the light switch, her phone buzzed. She looked at the screen, already knowing who was calling. Sure enough, the screen displayed Richard Castle. Her finger instinctively darted toward the accept button, but stopped a millimeter short as she took counsel of her fears. The phone buzzed again, seemingly with greater intensity than before.

"Ow," the shock of Hayley's open hand making contact with the back of her head drove her to turn and give her friend an injured look. The phone buzzed again, demanding attention.

"Would you rather be damned for doing or damned for not doing?" Hayley urged.

"Doing," and she pushed the button. "Hey."

Rick Castle was getting desperate. There was no way he was going to let Bethany just wander back out onto the streets to hook up with Chuck, or perhaps someone even worse. Unfortunately, her distrust of his motives seemed to be growing by the minute, and she was getting decidedly antsy. He knew if she just decided to get up and walk out, the only way he could stop her would be to arrest her, and that did not seem likely to build trust and confidence.

It was probably a measure of how mentally drained he was that it took him more than thirty seconds to come up with a solution. He took out his phone and selected the number he was looking for. It rang three times and he was about to hang up when she answered, "Hey."

"Hey. Kate I need you."

"Uh …what do you mean?"  
"I need a woman—"

"Rick, I don't think you—"

"Kate, let me finish. I have a problem here, and I need a person who is a woman to deal with it."

"Oh, What kind of problem?"

"I'd rather explain in person. I'm at a club just down the road from your office called The Blue Agave. Could you come? Please?"

"Okay, I'll come, but this better not be a cheap trick to get a date."

"There hasn't been anything cheap about this trick so far."

"Is it okay if Hayley comes too? We were just leaving to get a mojito, and I guess The Blue Agave is as good a place as any."

"I always wanted to double date without the second guy."

"Rick…"

"Just kidding Kate, just kidding. See you soon." He ended the call and walked to the bar where Bethany was clearly becoming progressively more agitated. "Bethany, I need you to hang on for just about ten more minutes, and then you can leave if you want."

"What if I leave now?"  
"I'll have to arrest you for solicitation," he stated calmly.

"What kind of crazy pervert are you, anyway?"  
"Actually, I plead guilty to the crazy part, but trying to help a person turn their life around is not considered a perversion in most cultures."

"Chuck took care of me, and now since you beat him up, he's going to blame me." Bethany hissed angrily.

Rick finally had enough. He took her hand and forced it down on the bar, palm up. "Is this what you call taking care of you?" he grated out, pointing to the needle tracks on her arm.

The girl jerked her hand away and started crying again. Rick wished that Chuck was still around so he could beat on him some more, but he sensed heads turning toward the main entrance and looked up to see Kate and Hayley enter.

"So, Professor, it seems like you need help with your pickup lines." Kate's tone dripped sarcasm.

Rick chose to ignore the sarcasm and focus on the facts. "Her name is Bethany. I came in for a drink after I left the Bureau. She tried to proposition me, and her pimp showed up and took exception to her talking with a non-paying customer…"

Hayley had been studying the girl at the bar, and when she turned to look at them apprehensively, the bruises became visible.

Hayley gasped, "The pimp did that to her?"

"Yeah, he did. Right in front of me."  
Kate turned to see what Hayley was talking about, and her gaze narrowed. "Where is this pimp now?" She had to restrain herself from reaching for her sidearm.

Rick was almost too tired to grin. "Probably in surgery."

Kate's gaze softened. "You took him out?"

"Just one punch, but I was a bit frustrated, and I kind of took it out on him."

Kate felt the heat of a blush; the subtext was quite clear. "Okay, then, what do you want us to do?"

"If she is ready to turn her life around, then I Rick do everything in my power to see that she gets the help she needs. The pimp was controlling her by keeping her strung out on drugs. I'm guessing heroin from the look of the needle marks. She's going to crash soon, and she needs medical attention. So it would be helpful if she would voluntarily check herself in."

"Also, try to find out if she has parents or other family that I can contact. She's going to need a lot of support." He gave the two a wry smile. "And if you can convince her that I'm not a crazy pervert that would be an added benefit."

Kate pointed to an empty table far enough from the bar that Rick would not be able to overhear their conversation. "Sit. You might want to have another one of whatever you're having, cause this might take a while."

Rick sat and signaled the bartender, who hustled over, "Yes sir, would you like another?"  
"I would."

###

Kate and Hayley approached the girl at the bar and introduced themselves. She appeared taken aback that the FBI was interested in her, but Kate was able to convince her that they were not there in an official capacity, but only because they genuinely wanted to help. Soon they were sitting on either side of her, holding her hands, and talking mile a minute.

Sitting thirty feet away, Rick watched with a thin, tight smile as his commandos stormed the walls of stone the girl had built around herself. They seemed to cycle through talking, crying, hugging, and then reset and start the cycle again. After a while, Kate got up and came to sit beside Rick, leaving Hayley and the girl still in discussion.

"I sure could use one of those." She hugged herself tightly to suppress a shiver. Shortly, she had her drink and sipped it tentatively. She moaned in pleasure, "Omigod, Rick that is amazing."

"So how did it go with Bethany?"

"Well, first of all her name is not Bethany, it's Britney, Britney Lohr, and she is from Sioux City, Iowa. She's nineteen, and I know you're going to say that you thought she was older. Her story is pretty typical, fights with mom, runs away, meets guy who offers to take care of her, starts using, man says no more free ride, she has to pay for her drugs, and the next thing you know, she's out on the street turning fifty-dollar tricks."

"How long has she been on the street?"

"Two years this month."

"Has she had any contact with her family?"

"No, she's too ashamed; she thinks they would hate her."

"Well, on to the question of the hour. Does she want help to turn it around?"

Kate drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yes she does. She said she would rather die than go back to Chuck. I think she's already tried to suicide at least once. She has scars on her wrists that look like slash marks."

"Damn." He picked up his phone and scrolled through the contact list, found what he was looking for, and pushed the call button. "May I speak to Dr. Kornati please? Rick Castle calling."

Kate knew she shouldn't be surprised anymore by the quality of Rick's contact list. Isabel Kornati was a physician of international repute; she was a full professor at the USF School of Medicine, and one of the top researchers in the world in the study of addiction and treatment of addicts. A Nobel Prize for Medicine validated her preeminence in the field. But she had made it clear numerous times that the true love of her life was The Sanctuary, a shelter for battered and abused women and treatment center for drug addiction. She was both its founder and its executive director.

Apparently, Rick was one of the people whose calls she took personally at six fifty on a Friday evening. Kate could only hear Rick's side of the conversation, but it was quickly clear that Britney was on her way to The Sanctuary, and that Dr. Kornati would personally supervise her treatment.

Kate was curious. "How did you get her in so fast? I've heard that there's a waiting list at least six months long."

Rick started to answer, but she interrupted with a grin. "No, wait. Let me guess. You know the owner."

"Actually, I am the owner." He smiled sheepishly at the shocked look on her face. "Or to be perfectly accurate, half owner. Isabel is the other owner."

"Rick, whatever possessed you to own a women's shelter and addiction treatment center?"

"It's a long story. Right now, we need to focus on Britney. Can we contact her family?"

"All she gave me was her father's name, Dr. Sinclair Lohr. He's a dentist"

Kate sipped her drink while Rick contacted the girl's parents and make arrangements to have his private jet fly them to Tampa.

"Can you and Hayley go with me to take Britney to The Sanctuary?"

"Of course Rick, we're involved now and we want to see it through. In fact, I think it would be best if Britney rides with us. We can follow you."

"I think that's a great idea. Let's get rolling, Isabel's expecting us." Rick started to stand, but Kate put a hand on his arm and gently restrained him. She chuckled softly at the look of abject puzzlement he gave her.

"May I ask you a personal question?" Kate asked.

"I guess. What is it?"

"Why are you doing this?" Perhaps the most momentous question she had ever asked.

He gave her an appraising look before answering. "Because I can, and because it's right." He paused to gather his thoughts before continuing. "It's always right to defend the weak. It's always right to help the helpless; it's always right to avenge the innocent; it's always right to bring hope to the hopeless; and when you have the resources and ability to do those things, I believe it creates a cosmic debt that must be paid. Is that too cheesy for you?"

She was blown away by his response, and barely choked out "I don't think it's cheesy at all. It's…It's well …It's wonderful!"

They locked eyes again, and this time she felt no panic, no fear, and no retreat. She drew her line in the sand and willingly stepped over. Nothing would ever be the same.

"I think we need to talk—soon," he said, his voice gritty with emotion.

"Yes," she said through her tears, but there was also the beginning of a smile. "We have a lot to talk about. But first we need to take care of your stray lamb."

They hadn't noticed Hayley and Britney standing there until Hayley cleared her throat. "If you two are through making lovey-dovey eyes at each other, shouldn't we get going?"

"Er, yes." Rick wrenched his gaze from Kate, and she just knew she was blushing crimson.

Hayley was not so restrained. She hauled her friend into a hug and whispered, "You go, girl. We can talk in the car. I want details."

It was about a thirty-minute drive to The Sanctuary, and Kate in her M3 easily kept up with Rick's Range Rover as they negotiated the moderately heavy traffic. The women rode silently for a few minutes until Britney spoke hesitantly.

"Kate, I know it's none of my business, but are you and Marshal Castle, like …you know…together?"

"Uh…no we're not. Why would you ask?"

"Uh, I just saw the way he looked at you."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, like you were the most beautiful, precious, amazing thing in the world."

Kate glanced in the rear view mirror and then over at Hayley, who nodded.

"It's true," her friend said. "Now I want details. What were you two talking about?"

"We were talking about making arrangements for Britney. It was amazing; he called Isabel Kornati," Kate said, miming big-eyed amazement at the rear view mirror, "and the next thing I know she's going to be taking care of Britney personally."

"This Marshal Castle did all that for me? Why would he do that?"

"Because that's the kind of man he is, and I guess your guardian angel arranged for you to be at the right place at the right time." As she spoke, Kate felt a wave of exhilaration wash over her.

When they pulled up to the main entrance, Rick had already exited his car and was waiting for them under an arched awning. Beside him was a woman who was the exact opposite of what Kate had been expecting. All of Rick's female associates she had met so far had been young and extremely attractive. Thus, she had been expecting something like Giada De Laurentis in a starched white lab coat. What she saw instead was the perfect stereotype of an Italian grandmother; plump, black hair streaked with gray, and dressed in a casual cotton dress that made her look like she was just taking dinner out of the oven.

Kate parked, and the three women climbed out of the BMW to meet Rick and his companion.

"Ladies, this is Dr. Isabel Kornati. Isabel, I'd like you to meet special agents Beckett and Shipton of the FBI, and of course our new friend Britney."

Isabel shook hands with Kate and Hayley, but gathered Britney into a grandmotherly hug. She spoke softly to her for a few minutes and Britney nodded. Isabel turned to Rick. "All right then, we'd best get after it." She turned to Kate and Hayley. "Don't worry; we'll take good care of her." She took Britney by the hand and they walked toward the entrance together.

Rick turned to the two women "I don't know how I can ever thank you. I'm afraid this would have ended badly if you hadn't come to the rescue."

Hayley chuckled, "I can say one thing for certain, Rick. It's never dull with you around."

"Thanks…I think."

She gave him a quick hug. "Good night, Rick."  
"Good night, Hayley." She walked to the BMW leaving Rick and Kate alone.

###

They stood a couple of feet apart. Rick unsure of the next move, noted Kate's expression. She was clearly as mystified as he was and he felt the emotion crackling through the space between them like an electrical storm. Rick Castle was a very brave man, but at that moment, one thing robbed his limbs of strength and his mind of purpose, and that one thing was the fear that he would drive Kate away for good if he loosened his hold on his emotions.

However, doing nothing at this point was not an option, so he took a half step toward her. His right hand came up without conscious thought, and as it came, his hand rotated to face the palm upward. No one would mistake this for a handshake.

Kate had no clue as to what Rick was about to do, but she stepped forward as well.

Her hand met his as if magnetized, and he carried it reverently to his lips, where he placed an exquisitely gentle kiss on her knuckles.

"I've wanted to do that since we met" he murmured, his eyes dark with passion.

Kate felt as if a thousand butterflies were conducting flight operations in her belly. She had half expected an all-out assault on her lips, and was at least marginally disappointed that he hadn't done it. Why had he done it that way? She was looking into his eyes, and it was obvious that he wanted her. His sturdy frame was trembling with what must surely be suppressed desire.

The answer burst into her consciousness like a spring freshet. He's honoring me! He's showing me that he wants more from me than a kiss, more than a tryst, more than an affair.

Rick interrupted her thoughts in a way that made her wonder if she'd spoken aloud. "I want all of it," he said firmly. "Forever." He reached out to steady her as her knees went weak and she swayed forward. He caught her by the elbows and allowed her to steady herself. She gripped his forearms and met his gaze.

"Thank you," she breathed. "No one has ever looked at me like that before or kissed me like that. You make me feel like more than a messed-up person riddled with hang-ups and buried in baggage. You make me feel free and whole and...and…just…happy."

"We do have a lot to talk about, don't we?"

"We do," she acknowledged with a shy smile, "And we Rick, but not tonight. I need some time to process it all. May I call you?"

"Of course."

"Good night, Rick."  
"Good night, Sparrow Hawk." He turned and walked toward his car


	23. Chapter 23

Kate slid into the M3, braced for Hayley's inevitable pounce.

"Girl, I didn't know you had it in you…that was freakin' awesome! What did Rick say to you? I thought you were going to pass out."

"He said he wanted it all and forever." The memory brought forth a huge smile.

"And you didn't run away? Omigod, what have you done with my friend?"

Kate laughed as she started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot. "No more running. I'm sure now, after tonight."

"What about tonight?"

"I saw the lake, look what he did for a total stranger. He fought for her, he went to extraordinary lengths to care for her, and asked for nothing in return. How much more would he do for the woman he loved? Hayley, he would give her the world. You asked me earlier if I trusted him with my heart, and now I know the answer is yes."

"You do realize that you only met Rick four days ago, right?"

Kate sobered quickly as she let Hayley's words sink in. "I hadn't really thought about that. Do you think…?

"Kate," Hayley reached across the console to lay her hand gently on her friend's arm, giving a reassuring squeeze. "I don't mean it's not good, I just mean it's extraordinary. You have a lot of milestones ahead of you, so don't rush it, just let it happen."

"I get it, but what milestones are you talking about?"

"Well, you know: first real date, first hug, first kiss, first time making love, spending the night, spending the weekend, going away together, and so on."

"Wow." Heat coursed through Kate's veins. "That's a lot to look forward to, isn't it?"

Her friend's smile lit up the dim interior. "You have no idea, girl." Then her expression turned serious. "May I give you one piece of advice?"

"Can I stop you?" Kate chuckled.

"In this case, no. Kate, if your relationship grows and develops, Rick is going to want one thing from you more than anything else. Do you know what that is?"

"Smokin' hot sex?"

Hayley shook her head. "No, not even close. He is going to want you to be his best friend, to be the one person he can always count on to take him as he is, to be the one person who will always tell him the truth without fear or favor."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. Kate, in the time I've spent with Rick, I've reached some fairly firm conclusions about him. First, he is fundamentally a very lonely man. He is surrounded by people who owe him favors, people who want favors, employees, professional associates, and so on, but not one of them is the best friend he needs. He has that dry sense of humor and seems all jovial on the outside, but I don't think it goes that deep. Vienna and the AG are probably the closest to him, but Vienna is married, and the AG is busy being the AG."

"So you're saying the job's still open?"

"Yes, it is. So don't sweat the romance stuff, just spend time together, talk, and get to know each other, and everything else will follow."

"Thanks, that makes it a lot less scary, I don't have any experience being a lover, but I do have experience being a friend. I can do this. By the way, what other conclusions have you reached?"

"Rick seems to be one of the minority of men who genuinely like women. Aside from any romantic angle, he just enjoys their company. Have you noticed how his closest associates are mostly women, and he doesn't appear to have or even desire a romantic relationship with any of them?"

"Now that you mention it, it is pretty obvious." Kate took a deep breath, "Do you think he wants a romantic relationship…with…me?"

"Girl, the third conclusion I've reached about our professor is that he is a very passionate man. His feelings are deep and powerful, and the woman who wins his heart will have a rare treasure indeed."

"I wonder if he's ever been in a relationship, and if so, why isn't he in one now?"

Hayley theatrically smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Kate you're going to hate me, but here is a bit of information that I meant to tell you, but with everything that's been going on, I just plain forgot."

Kate just knew that she was going to tell her Rick was married, and her heart sank a bit at the thought. "What did you forget?"

"You remember the fifteen-year thing, and how we figured that something happened in 2001 that turned his life upside down?"

Kate nodded hesitantly. "Yes. The court-martial."

"True, but that's not all. Rick had a fiancée, and she was killed on 9/11. She was in the jet that crashed in Pennsylvania. He was arrested the day after the crash. He never got to visit the crash scene, and the authorities wouldn't let him attend her funeral. Then, two weeks later the court-martial convened."

Kate turned the M3 into the nearest parking lot and stopped, leaving the engine running. She knew she couldn't possibly drive safely with the tears flowing freely and her breath coming in shuddering gasps. "You mean the despicable bastards dragged him into that sham court-martial two weeks after his fiancée died in a plane crash?"

"Yes, and it gets worse."

"What could be worse?"

"She was pregnant at the time."

"What? My God, how did he make it through that?"

"I don't know, but he told me that he hasn't been in a relationship since then, and he hasn't even dated in the last five years. No woman could measure up to her, I guess, so he more or less just quit trying. Until now."

"Until now?"

"It appears he may be ready to move on."

"Why now?"

"Because he found someone worth moving on with."

"Me?"

"Who else? Like I told you before, the ride of your life, girlfriend."

"Looks that way, doesn't it?"

Rick drove mostly on autopilot, his conscious mind struggling vainly to process anything other than the one shining fact that he had kissed her and she had not run away. Granted, it was only a kiss on the hand, but it was a start, and he would swear that she responded.

Almost-forgotten feelings ricocheted through him, setting off cascades of light and sound, as if his mind was a pinball machine. Damn, if I reacted this way to a kiss on the hand, what would a real kiss be like, or, oh, God what would it be like to make love to her? He thought with more than a little anticipation, that if it scaled up normally, he wasn't likely to survive the experience.

He forced his mind to concentrate on his driving once he almost plowed into the back of a Hyundai that stopped suddenly ahead. Focus, Rick, focus, he chided himself, and more or less kept his mind on the road until he made it home and parked the Range Rover in the garage.

He took the stairs two at a time and entered the kitchen, realizing that he was famished, then remembering he hadn't eaten since lunch. Was their lunch at Musashi really only today? It seemed like a week ago. So much had happened since then that he found it difficult to process. Maybe it was best to sleep on it, and try to make sense of it tomorrow.

But first, food. He quickly scanned the fridge, and grabbed the leftover pasta salad. Quick and easy, that would just have to do. More alcohol did not excite him, so he settled for a glass of water and sat down on the couch to watch the news while he ate. There was no mention of the events in Colorado Springs, and he wondered how that had escaped the news vultures.

By the time the news ended, his bed was calling his name, so he turned off the TV and dropped his dishes in the dishwasher. In the bathroom, he stripped for a quick shower and went through his normal evening ritual. Pulling on a pair of clean boxers and a t-shirt, he collapsed on the bed and was asleep before he could wiggle around and get under the covers. No nightmares troubled his dreams, only beautiful FBI agents. He smiled as he fell asleep.

Kate dropped Hayley at her apartment and drove the fifteen minutes to her own place. As she entered she realized how hungry she was, so she pulled a pasta bowl out of the freezer and popped it into the microwave. When she opened the refrigerator looking for a soda, she noticed a half-empty bottle of pinot grigio and opted for that instead.

The microwave dinged and she carried the hot pasta and a full glass of the wine to the breakfast bar. She ate steadily; focusing on the food and not letting her mind dwell on the events of the day. She cleaned up the kitchen and topped off her wine before finding her favorite spot on the couch and drawing her knees up to her chest so she could think.

She knew that she had missed most of the rites of passage that a young woman experiences; the ones that help her develop her sexuality and prepare her for a serious relationship, and eventually marriage. She had only seriously dated one man, and that relationship had not progressed very far when he took upon himself to "liberate" her.

Since then Hayley and others had fixed her up a few times, but none of those dates ended well, and none of the men asked for a second date. Finally, even Hayley quit trying, and Kate had more or less resigned herself to being alone with only dreams of her paladin to keep her company.

Then Rick showed up at the Bureau, and her lonely, dreary life had been turned upside down and shaken to the depths. A man who seemed to embody the qualities with which she had imbued her paladin of memory and fantasy had walked into her life in flesh and blood, fought like a hero, and in the process saved her life and who knows how many others.

Something that she had read many years ago suddenly popped into her head. It was the blood oath of the paladin and she quoted it softly and reverently:

For I swear by your divine light of the moon and the stars, To uphold your justice By sheltering your children under my shield. And to vanquish the foes of the Light, with the stroke of my sword. Author Unknown

They weren't just stirring words anymore, because she had seen that vow embodied, had seen the sword wielded and the shield shelter the weak and helpless. That had spoken to her in a way that no cheap romantic inducements could, and her heart had opened like a flower seeing its first sunrise.

She thought of what she had learned about Rick: world famous scientist, rich (probably as rich as stink, but who knows?), knows everybody (has the President on speed dial!), and could undoubtedly have just about any woman he wanted. What did she have to offer him? It was obvious that he wanted her, but why? Why would he want to deal with her hang-ups, fears, and baggage? Why would…?

Her phone rang, interrupting the downward spiral. She snatched it off the table and checked the caller ID. It was Hayley, so she hit accept.

"I know what you're thinking," Hayley chided.

"What?"

"You're thinking that Rick could have any woman he wanted, so how could he possibly want a messed-up FBI agent."

Damn Hayley and her psychic powers. "Hayley, it's true. What can I offer him?"

"Girl, don't make me come over and hurt you. Do you think Rick is a rational person, that he is capable of making wise choices when presented with the facts?"

"Well…Yes, of course."

"Then let him decide what and who he wants and quit trying to make his decisions for him."

"But he doesn't know about all of my problems, and if he did—"

"Damn it, Kate, there you go again. You and he need to talk. Give him all the facts and let him make his own decision. Rick is very intuitive, and he trusts his intuition. If his gut tells him that you are the one, then he will fight for you and love you through anything. Do not unilaterally throw away something amazing because you don't feel worthy. Let him make the call."

She paused for a moment, but Kate didn't respond, so she continued. "Let me ask you this. Do you believe Rick is worthy of you?"

Kate scoffed. "Yes, silly woman, of course."

"And who made that decision?"

"I did. Oh. I see where you're going with this, but it's not the same."

"How is it different?"

"Because I know about his issues."

Hayley had carefully set her up and now she went straight for the throat. "And yet you still consider him worthy?"

Kate chuckled softly. "Touché. Girl, you shoulda been a lawyer."

"No way, it's bad enough having one for a best friend. By the way, I owe you lunch. Javier asked me out for lunch tomorrow."

"I'll hold you to that, and I hope it is the most amazing first date ever."

Kate lay staring at her bedroom ceiling, or more precisely at the ceiling fan making languidly endless circles against the darkened ceiling. She mulled over her conversation with Hayley, realizing for maybe the hundredth time this week that her friend was an extraordinarily wise woman for a twenty-seven-year-old.

She knew that she was extremely lucky that Rick wanted her, because, God in heaven, she wanted him. If overcoming her insecurities and allowing Rick to make his own choices was the path to her goal, then overcome she would. They would have their talk, she would hold nothing back, and he would make his choice. If he still wanted her, then she would be his friend, and perhaps someday his lover, with the same intensity and determination she brought to catching criminals.

A lingering tingle where he had kissed her hand made her think of what a real kiss might be like, and a delightful shiver coursed through her. Thinking back to the events following their lunch date (she chose to think of it that way), she saw clearly that if Rick had not taken charge, no one else could have foiled the plot so thoroughly and prevented a disaster. Her heart had almost leapt from her chest as she had watched him turn a panic-stricken pilot into a tiger, and then dispatched the cavalry (literally) to rescue the stranded agents.

Trust had always been the underlying problem in her dealings with men. She simply did not trust any of them enough to tell them where the landmines were, so they all came to grief, usually sooner rather than later.

Now, somehow, the minefield had been cleared. She realized that she simply trusted Rick Castle, trusted him in every way possible. He would never, ever hurt her deliberately, and she believed that now in the depths of her soul. With Rick, she would be safe. Safe, her last conscious thought before she finally drifted off to sleep, and for the first time in years, no nightmares troubled her sleep.

Tampa Saturday Oct. 8

Rick woke to the demented buzzing of his phone. He was amazed to realize it was seven thirty; he couldn't remember when he had last slept through the night. Then he wondered who was calling so early on a Saturday morning. A quick glance at his phone solved that mystery.

"So, how's my favorite cabinet member, bright and early on a Saturday morning?"

"Rick, are you implying that it's too early to call?" Jordan Shaw asked with a quiet chuckle.

"Implying is not the word I would choose, Madame Attorney General."

"You grew up on a farm, Rick. You should be used to getting up at the crack of dawn.

"Yeah, when I was fifteen. So what can I do for you?"

"First, you really got things stirred up in Colorado Springs. You've created quite a fan club."

"Give the Bureau the credit. If they hadn't found the GPS data, we wouldn't have had a clue until it was all over."

"This is one of those rare cases where there's plenty of credit to go around. The second thing is that my trip to Brussels next month has been canceled. Do you think we can get all of the players together on such short notice to brief the team? Maybe the week after Thanksgiving?"

"Sure. All of my folks can make it, and Kate and Hayley work for you, so you can just order them to be there."

"How about Wednesday through Friday, then?"

"Sounds good to me, and anyone who wants to can stay over the weekend."

'See you then. Goodbye, Rick."

"'Bye, Jordan."

He quickly sent a text message to Vienna. "Summit next month." The answer came back almost immediately. "About time."

The morning sun struck Kate's face, and she groaned. Without opening her eyes, she twisted reflexively, trying to escape the light filtering through her eyelids. Who turned the light on? She wondered, and finally opened her eyes. Realizing it was sunlight; she forced herself to look at her phone on the nightstand. Eight o'clock.

Oh, crap, she had a nine o'clock conference call with the special agent in charge of the Omaha office. Whatever her personal best time for getting ready for work was, she set a new standard as she raced through a shower, dried her hair, and applied her usual minimal makeup. She slipped on jeans and tucked in a white button-down, slipped on her favorite flats and grabbed her badge, gun, and leather jacket on the way to the door.

Counting on her badge to keep her out of traffic court, she gave the M3 a workout as she made the normal fifteen- to twenty-minute drive in just over ten minutes. Wow, she thought on the way in from the parking lot, that was fun, I'll have to do that more often…Not!

Hayley was waiting in her office, and Kate made it to her desk just as the phone rang. She put the phone on speaker and pushed the button to answer. "Good morning, Gerhard."

"Good morning, Kate, and how are you this fine morning? It's been a long time."

Gerhard Hoch, the Special Agent in Charge in Omaha, was an academy classmate of Kate's. They had been friendly but not especially close while at Quantico, and their paths had not crossed since.

"I'm well, thank you."

"I'm assuming this conversation has something to do with the two terrorist attacks?"

"Yes, it does. We have a person of interest who is a professor at the University of Iowa, and we were wondering if someone from your office could conduct a preliminary interview?"

"I suppose so, but how did a college professor in Iowa get linked to terrorist activity?"

"Our science consultant put together a list of all the people who have the technical expertise to create the modified virus that the terrorists were trying to use, and Professor Miktov Tsiapinski is pretty much the only one on the list."

"Okay, then, we'll get on it. In fact, I think I'll do this interview myself. Do you have specific lines of questioning that you would like me to pursue?"

"How about if I e-mail you that info as soon as we're through talking?"

"Sounds good. I'll be looking for it, and I will try to get over to Iowa City on Monday if possible."

"Thanks Gerhard. We appreciate your help."

"Anything that'll help get these bastards. So long, Kate, nice talking to you again."

"Goodbye." Kate ended the call and turned to Hayley. "Let's get that list together."

Hayley gave her a smug grin. "Did it while I was waiting for you, sleepyhead." She handed Kate a printout. "Here, see what you think."

Kate read through the list, penciling in a couple of additions before handing it back. "Add these, and I think we've got it covered."

Hayley made the changes and sent the e-mail.

"Have you called Rick yet?" she asked.

"No. Not yet."

"Okay, just don't wait too long."

"I won't. By the way, when is Javier picking you up for your lunch date?"

"In about twenty minutes, actually."

"Did he say where he's taking you?"

"Not really, just something about a picnic, and to dress comfortably."

"Sounds interesting."

Twenty minutes later, Hayley and Kate walked out together just as Javier pulled up to the main entrance. Javier was driving a bright yellow Porsche Carrera S convertible, and Kate whistled appreciatively.

Hayley muttered, "Apparently Rick pays well."  
"Yeah, it sure looks that way, and we learn something new about Javier." Kate grinned at her friend "He has impeccable taste in cars to go along with his impeccable taste in women!"

Javier hustled around to open the door for Hayley and gave Kate a cheerful wave. Judging by the mile-wide smile he was making no effort to hide, Kate decided Javier was expecting a fun date.

Kate continued on to the parking lot, and the Porsche roared past before she reached her car. If Javier only knew what he was in for, maybe the smile would be a little strained. Then again, maybe not. There had to be a guy somewhere who could handle Hayley, didn't there?

Kate smiled fondly when she thought of her friend's dating history. Hayley was not even remotely promiscuous, but she was an almost compulsive dater. It was a rare weekend, indeed, when she didn't have a date, and two dates in one weekend were not uncommon. She seemed to take it as a personal challenge to make sure that every guy she dated would have a good time, and she was an expert at letting guys down gently who didn't make it on to her second-date list. The guy that Hayley was willing to make an exception for, and here Kate was in hearty agreement, was the Alpha Male wannabe who seemed to think a drink and a snap of the fingers was sufficient to get in her pants. Those guys usually were left lying bleeding and battered by the side of the road—metaphorically speaking, of course.

One of the things Kate had found herself liking—okay loving—about Rick was that, even though he was Alpha to the core, he was normally so modest and unassuming. He never acted like he had anything to prove, and was quite willing to let others take the lead unless events demanded otherwise. His Alpha status was not self-aggrandizement, but rather was awarded by people who knew the real deal when they saw it. If Javier turned out to be another one like Rick, it was going to be a hot time in the old town tonight.

Shaking her head at the thought, Kate headed out of the parking lot and toward her first stop, St. Thomas' Church. She felt a little guilty that she had missed both confession and Mass last weekend, and hoped Father Lazio wouldn't be too hard on her. She took her place in the line of penitents and used her time to pray for guidance in building a relationship with Rick.

An hour later, she was on her way to her second stop of the morning. In retrospect, she was happy that she had gone to church today. She had, of course, confessed her (relatively meager) sins and received absolution, but her time of introspection and prayer had settled her mind even more firmly.

A relationship with Rick was her heart's desire, and she would give it her all.

The second stop was her mixed martial arts class. She was closing in on qualifying for her black belt She desperately needed to work off some of the stress from the terrorist case and quiet the cacophony of thoughts chasing each other around in her mind. She pushed herself hard for the entire hour.

As she was gathering her things to leave, one of the newer students wandered over and asked if she wanted to spar. Kate loved to spar, but her Spidey sense (been hanging around Rick too much!) was jumping up and down and screaming her name. She was pretty sure that the guy was not looking for a sparring match, so much as a chance to get his hands on her. It was the swagger that decided her, that and his condescending promise to take it easy on her.

You're road kill, Jethro; you just don't know it yet. She slipped her light training gloves and headgear back on and walked out to the middle of the mat to wait.

Her opponent soon joined her and inquired, "What's the rules, sweetheart?"

"Pretty simple, no groin strikes, no hits to the face, first person to tap out loses. That's it, whenever you're ready."

He suddenly lunged for her, going directly for a grapple and confirming her earlier suspicion. It was a costly move. His grasping hands found nothing but empty space, and he was subjected to a flurry of kicks and punches that landed with machine gun-like rapidity as a woman barely half his size deftly evaded his attack.

The shock on his face was priceless, and Kate threw a quick glance over his shoulder, grinning to herself when she saw that the other students and teachers had gathered to watch, and that the ones who knew her well seemed to be holding large wads of currency.

The next five minutes were more or less a repeat of the opening seconds, the man lunging around the mat trying to bring the woman to heel, and Kate striking like lightning, punishing him, but lacking the body mass to put him down for good.

Enough of this.

The next time he lunged, she stood her ground, eliciting a gasp from the onlookers. He latched on to her like a vise and drew her in for the decisive grapple, where he could finally use his size and weight to advantage.

However, she broke his hold with a vicious open hand strike to the bottom of the jaw. Pivoting out of the hold, she delivered a perfect spin kick to the back of his knee with all the whipcord strength her body could muster. The man crashed to the mat with a piercing shriek, and she knelt quickly, her hand drawn back for the kill stroke. He tapped out.

Kate drove home, letting her body metabolize the adrenalin that had her humming with barely suppressed energy. That last move had been risky, and she silently admonished herself for overconfidence while mentally starting a new list for next week's confession. Entry number one: hubris.

It still felt good, though. She had always enjoyed the process of decompression after a demanding match or a sparring session, feeling the energy bleed off and waves of pleasure ebbing slowly, with a million tiny sighs of contentment. Perhaps it was her substitute for the fabled afterglow people attributed to sex.

A new thought popped into her mind, what would it be like to spar with Rick? She knew Rick would have been trained to a razor's edge in his earlier career as a Recon Marine, but she didn't know whether his skills were current.

Military training was also very different from the training she had received in the Bureau, or even her MMA training. Rick would have been trained to kill, or at least incapacitate an opponent, quickly, quietly and efficiently. Her training was oriented toward subduing and/or disarming a suspect safely, inflicting as little actual damage as possible. A match would be an interesting clash of styles and personalities.

She ran through several imaginary scenarios that always ended with a hot and sweaty Kate pinned underneath an equally hot and sweaty Rick. She mentally tamped down the images with a sigh, forcing herself to focus on her driving. But not before she added item number two to her confession list and updated her bucket list: spar with Rick. 


	24. Chapter 24

**I'm truly humbled by the reception to this story. You all keep reading and I'll keep writing.**

 **Thanks for the feedback.**

Rick Castle generally felt satisfied with his achievements and grateful for his friends, but all that did not lead to a genuinely cheerful outlook.

He had visited the dirty, stinking underbelly of the world too often, stood his ground too many times out of sheer cussedness when rational men were running away shrieking. He'd worked with a singular determination to become a hardheaded realist; to bind his thoughts and feelings behind an adamantine shell.

Those few who truly knew him well would say that he tended toward melancholy. That while he was capable of bringing peace and great joy into the lives of others (and often had), it never really seemed to stick to him.

This morning, however, as he drove home from taking Britney's parents to The Sanctuary, he was surprised to realize that on a personal level (he still had a terrorist threat to deal with after all.) he felt…happy.

It was a classically beautiful autumn day in central Florida—cloudless blue sky and cool enough that the morning sun felt welcome and not oppressive. What Floridians call "Chamber of Commerce weather".

It wasn't the weather that made his steps light and his blood sing, though. It was them—two women, as different as could be.

Britney, teenage hooker, had been used and ill-treated, her body ravaged by physical and chemical abuse. Her mind twisted and tormented—riddled with guilt and shame. Now she had a fighting chance. He had gone when the universe beckoned (he always did)—gone into her dark world to snatch her out and bring her to the healer. Isabel would save her, give Britney back her health and her strength. Her parents seemed to be good folks, and they would give her love and acceptance…and she would be okay.

Then there was Kate. There was something mysterious about their powerful connection. She certainly wasn't his usual damsel in distress. Why was he so drawn to her? It wasn't her staggering intellect, or her sheer competence, enticing as they might be. It sure as hell wasn't just her looks, either. He'd been with enough beautiful women that he wasn't bowled over by a pretty face any more. At first glance, she seemed to have everything; looks, a stellar education, and an honorable profession at which she excelled.

At second glance, however, things seemed to be missing. A big chunk of her life was skillfully hidden. He wished he knew what had happened that kept her from having a normal relationship. What had she experienced that made her so skittish and distrustful of men? She was clearly a strong and confident woman, so the date rape incident Hayley had told him about just didn't seem to be sufficient cause.

Hayley had hinted at something that happened earlier, but even she didn't seem to know any details, only that it must have been truly unspeakable.

Kyra's death had torn a hole in his heart, leaving a void as empty as the vacuum of space. Then it struck him, had that happened to Kate as well? Had whatever happened to her torn a hole in her heart, leaving vacuum behind? Every physicist knows that nature abhors a vacuum…did the universe bring them together to fill that emptiness? Was the universe beckoning again?

If it were, he would answer. And that thought banished any lingering melancholy. At least for a little while.

Just as he climbed into the Range Rover, his phone signaled an incoming text. When he gathered his courage he discovered it was from his sister. The message was a picture and four short words, "Can you make this?" He enlarged the picture slightly and squinted a bit as he studied the object.

Wow, nice piece! The object was a Philadelphia spice chest from the Federal period, about 1780 or so, from the look of it. It was elegantly decorated with a fan inlay in addition to the usual string inlays. However, the thing that really made it stand out was the wood. It was quite literally the most amazing piece of curly cherry Rick had ever seen. Stunning was too mundane a word to describe it.

"Why not just buy it?" he texted back.

"It sold for $111,000 this morning at Sotheby's. Little bit out of my price range!"

"Okay, I can make it. But I could look for years and not match that wood."

"Is there something else that would look nice?"

"Yeah, I have some awesome curly maple."

"Okay."

"Would this make an acceptable Christmas present?"

"Totally!"

"Deal?"

"Deal!"

He smiled as he dropped the phone in the console cubby. A woodworking project was just what he needed to keep him sane while waiting for Kate to call.

When his physics career took off, the woodworking shop provided a nice change of pace, less cerebral and more manual. He considered himself a better than average woodworker, but the spice chest would test his craftsmanship and give him a chance to think. Something was poking around at the edges of his consciousness. Something huge and hairy, like a lion prowling around the outskirts of an African village. Something that was going to bite if he didn't figure it out-soon. Maybe Kate can help me sort it out. If she ever calls -that is.

When he arrived home, he changed into woodworking clothes, old, well-worn jeans and a dark gray t-shirt, and made a sandwich. Selecting a cold root beer from the fridge, he headed downstairs with his lunch to get started on Laura Castle's spice cabinet.

The weather was nice, so he opened the double garage door, flooding the shop with cheerful sunlight, and the clean, briny smell of the ocean mingled with the pungent spiciness of hardwood helped to settle his nerves and focus his thoughts.

The boards he had selected were still rough, so he used the block plane to smooth a few small patches on each side of the boards so he could get an idea of the underlying grain patterns.

The next step was one of the most important in the entire process. The boards for each part of the piece had to be selected so that the grain patterns would complement each other and the finished piece would look almost like it had been carved from a single piece of wood.

Rick stood for some time at the workbench, his back to the door, industriously mixing, matching, turning, twisting and flipping, occasionally stopping for a bite of his sandwich or a swallow of root beer.

He mentally blessed his sister for her idea, as he felt relaxed for the first time in almost a week. He was so intent that he didn't immediately realize that a car had stopped in his driveway.

Once home, Kate headed directly for a hot shower to mitigate any soreness. She did not want any distractions tonight.

While drying her hair, she had an idea and made a decision. Sometimes decisions are just choices between alternatives that would have similar outcomes no matter what the decision. But sometimes…sometimes decisions change the very fabric of one's life, forever altering the present and the future.

Kate Beckett was no stranger to life-changing decisions. Her decision to become an FBI agent instead of taking the lucrative offer extended by a major New York law firm the day after she graduated from Yale was one.

Today's decision, although she wouldn't recognize it as such for some time, was another. She simply decided that instead of calling Rick to discuss the feelings that seemed to be developing between them, she would surprise him and drive to his house to talk in person. She had two questions that she was determined to get answers to before she left Rick's house—if she had to stay all night. She felt her face flush at that thought. I didn't mean it that way, did I?

The first question was; what was Rick thinking about yesterday at the Bureau? It was just before he ran out, caught in the throes of an impending PTSD episode. If the subject of his thoughts was the trigger for his attack, then they must have been truly horrific.

The second question was of great moment to her, not so much for the rest of the world. Did Rick feel the same magnetic attraction, the same bone deep longing, the same sense of infinite possibility that left her heart racing and her knees trembling.

I have a decision to make. Kick Rick to the curb like I have so many times before and be a strong, confident, independent woman – alone. What would a strong, confident, independent woman do in this situation. Whatever the hell she wants to that's what. I want to love, I want to be loved by an amazing man. I'm going to do it, I don't want to be alone. Right here, right now I choose to be happy.

Having decided, she marched resolutely into her closet to choose what to wear. Normally she would have asked Hayley to come provide expert assistance, but today Hayley was off God knows where with Javier. Today, Kate was on her own.

She wasn't trying to seduce Rick, so she avoided anything suggestive or alluring—not that she had much of that anyway. On the other hand, she wanted something softer and more feminine than what she normally wore to work. God forbid that Rick should get the idea that the only reason she was there was to talk shop!

After much debate, she settled on a pair of denim shorts (not too short) and a sinfully soft, nubby silk sweater. She slipped on a pair of turquoise leather cowboy boots that reached almost to the knees, and topped off the whole ensemble with a short leather jacket that matched the boots.

The view in the mirror pleased her, so she settled at her computer to do a quick search for Rick's address. On a whim, she copied the address into Google Earth, just to see where he lived. Beach house. Nice.

Not that she had any intention of sleeping with Rick, but a house that size ought to have at least one guest room, shouldn't it? If the talks were going well, she didn't think Rick would mind if she slept over.

Thirty minutes later, she approached Rick's address, only realizing then that he might not be home. Her fear evaporated as she pulled in to his driveway and saw him standing inside his garage with his back to her, moving what looked like pieces of wood around on a sturdy-looking wooden bench. Whatever he was doing, it was so engrossing that he didn't hear the car stop in his driveway not twenty-five feet away.

She took a second to study him, realizing that this was the first time she had seen him without a jacket. She knew Rick's strength from personal experience, but, dang, he was built! He seemed to still know his way around a gym.

She saw him jump slightly when she slammed the car door, and he turned to find the source. His reaction confused her. His first expression was one of sheer terror, and he seemed to stagger, grasping the workbench for support.

It took her only a second to realize what was going on. He thought she had come in person to break off the relationship.

So she stepped forward, with a wide smile, and he relaxed a bit, the terror ratcheting down to mere wariness.

"Kate! What are you doing here?"

"We need to finish our talk from last night, and I thought instead of calling, I'd surprise you and come over. I guess I should have called?"

"No, no, it's good." He gave her a sheepish grin. "To be perfectly honest, I had just more or less convinced myself that you weren't going to call, and then I looked up and you were standing right there…"

"And you thought I had come to break it off?"

"Yeah."

"Rick, please believe me, that's the last thing in the world that I want to do."

"Okay, now that we've got that out of the way and my heart rate is almost back to normal, how about we take this party upstairs?"

"Sounds good. But, first, can I ask a question?"

"Sure," he looked at her expectantly.

"What were you doing when I drove up?"

"I was working on my sister's Christmas present." He punched up the message on his phone and held it up so Kate could see the picture. "I'm making one of these."

Kate wasn't quite sure what the object was, but it was beautiful.

He seemed to read her mind. "It's a spice cabinet. A reproduction of an original, made in 1780 or so. I'm using the same tools and techniques that would have been used to make the original."

Kate mentally added a couple of new data points to her Rick file: has a sister; does amazing things with wood.

He offered her an arm, and she took it without hesitation. "If you'll come with me milady, I think I can arrange a tour of the premises." He pushed the button to close the garage door, and led her to the steps. Bumping shoulders every couple of steps, they emerged into the kitchen.

Kate was blown away to discover a truly awe-inspiring space that had obviously been designed for a serious, even professional, cook. All the appliances were heavy-duty professional models, and the room itself was quite large, probably at least double the size of any kitchen she had seen before. She loved to cook, but found it mildly depressing to create elaborate meals only for her. In truth, the kitchen excited her almost as much as her first sight of Rick's t-shirt-clad torso. A picture of her cooking with him popped into her head, and she grinned.

Rick notice the grin. "If the urge to cook becomes overwhelming, feel free to indulge."

"I might just take you up on that. So, what's the rest of the place look like?"

He led her to the left and pointed to the two arched openings. "That one is obviously a wet bar and wine storage, the other one is my poker room." He led her back through the kitchen and pointed ahead. "That is the dining room." He turned left through a large opening. "This is the den."

The den was amazing. One wall held a mounted flat screen TV that had to be at least seventy-two inches. Facing the screen were two Stressless Recliners upholstered in black leather. On either side of the recliners was an overstuffed leather couch, each angled outward just enough so that people on the couches would have a good view of the screen, but still be able to carry on a conversation

Built into the wall beside the screen was an obviously high-end stereo system. The opposite end of the room was occupied by a pool table. A hallway opened off the side opposite the kitchen.

"Down that hall are a bathroom," he continued, "and a small bedroom that I use as a home office, and the master suite. There are three more bedrooms upstairs. I keep one set up as a guest room, but I seldom use the others."

He led her back to the den and pointed to the nearest couch. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable and we'll get the party started. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Some white wine would be nice. Not too dry, if you have it."

Rick disappeared around the corner and grabbed a bottle off the rack. Working quickly, he opened the bottle and gathered up a couple of glasses.

He walked back to the den, noticing that Kate had chosen a seat at the extreme end of the sofa, leaving him with a lot of choices of where to sit. Sit close and risk scaring her as he had yesterday at the Bureau, or sit further away and risk sending the message that he felt distant. In the end, he settled on a compromise weighted toward close. He sat about eighteen inches away, and when she smiled, he knew he had made the right choice. "Novella 2003, Muscat Canelli," he said, showing her the bottle. "Just what the lady ordered."

Kate reached out and took one of the glasses, holding it still while he filled it. She waited as he filled his own glass and set the bottle on the coffee table, then held up hers for a toast. "To possibilities."

"Possibilities," he murmured, and they clinked glasses. Rick waited expectantly as Kate took a sip of the wine.

"Oh, this is wonderful!" she said.

"I thought you'd like it," he grinned. "Now, where do you want to start?"

You were thinking very hard about something at the bureau yesterday. When I asked you about it, you said you would tell me later. It's later, so spill."

"All right, If you'll accompany me to my office, I'll do my best to bring you up to speed. Maybe you can help me tie up some loose ends."


	25. Chapter 25

**In which we meet the monster and his minion. What plans does he have for Kate?**

 **Shanghai - Peoples Republic of China October 8**

Lazlo Vukovic did not often suffer misgivings. In fact, he prided himself on being the source of others' misgivings. There were stories that credited him with over a hundred assassinations. They were a gross libel. The actual number was closer to six hundred. If you added in the number who had died "accidentally" during his aggressive interrogations, the number crowded two thousand. Nowadays, his reputation was such that the vast majority of the guests of the Serbian secret police started talking as soon as he entered the room. Wonderful for efficiency, but severely lacking in entertainment value.

Entertainment was the furthest thing from his mind as he strode down the plush carpet of the third floor corridor of Shanghai's Mandarin Hotel. The entire hotel had been reserved by the Shanghai Cooperative Organization for the week of its annual summit, and the third floor was primarily occupied by deputies to cabinet ministers, and the operations and planning staffs of the high-ranking military leaders ensconced on the slightly more luxurious fourth floor.

How ironic that the most powerful man in the hotel—some would argue the world, with considerable justification—was hidden away among the flunkies and factotums. Laszlo knew himself to be a pragmatic and cold-hearted man, and, from that perspective, he had no illusions about the Czar. The Czar had no heart at all.

He hesitated for half a second before rapping a quick, three-beat measure—Tap, Tap…Tap—on the gleaming mahogany door to room 301. Hearing a muffled "Enter," he pushed the door open and stepped into a small foyer. He had met with the Czar many times, but only one other time had it been immediately following a failed operation, and that was over twenty years ago. Not an experience he was eager to repeat, but he must, or suffer far worse.

A small dining table had been set in the middle of the room, and a slightly built, sandy-haired man was seated next to it, casually reading the New York Times International Edition. He looked up, his dark eyes glittering as Laszlo halted and inclined his head respectfully. The Czar was not insistent on meaningless bowing and scraping, but he would tolerate no disrespect from anyone. "Be seated, Laszlo. You may brief me while we eat."

The Serbian sat and poured coffee into the cup at his place before selecting a pastry from the basket. He took a bite, chewed meditatively, and washed it down with coffee before speaking. "Both Phase 1 operations were failures…one a partial, and one total." It never paid to skirt the issues when addressing the Czar.

"Colorado Springs?" the Czar asked.  
"The strike aircraft was shot down just short of the city by a fighter jet from the Colorado Air National Guard."

The Czar leaned forward. "How did they know? Was there a security leak?"

"No leak, sir. The Americans had one of their infernal AWACS in the area on a training mission, and it appears to have detected the Saudi's aircraft and directed the fighter to shoot it down."

"That still doesn't answer the question of how they knew it was hostile."

"Sir, we've not been able to confirm it, but one of our contacts at NORAD reported that they received a call alerting them to the impending strike about an hour before the plane took off."

"Name?"

"No name, sir. Just a code word—Archangel."

In the thirty years that Laszlo Vukovic had served the Czar he had never seen the older man show any emotion. This time however, the man blanched noticeably and set his coffee cup down with such force that Laszlo half expected the delicate china to shatter. He knew better than to ask why the name had affected his master, so he merely took another bite of his pastry and chewed with studied calm.

Finally, the Czar spoke. "It can't be. Archangel is dead, has been for fifteen years. If he were still alive, I would know."

"Who is…er, was, Archangel, Sir?" For a moment, Laszlo feared that his master would take umbrage at his question. That would tend to measurably decrease his life expectancy.

"Heaven's fiercest warrior," the Czar breathed, almost to himself. "The Angel who defeated the devil and cast him out of heaven."

"He was a man?" Laszlo asked, once he had assured himself he'd survived the moment of greatest danger.

"Yes, a man—or woman—we never knew exactly what the person looked like, only that they were certain to be on that 9/11 flight, the one that crashed."

"That could mean that someone else has taken up the mantle," the Serbian observed.

Once again the Czar was silent for some time, clearly deep in thought. "What about the ground crew in Colorado Springs, Laszlo?"

"Wiped out to the last man."

"I see," the Czar replied. "And how was that accomplished?"

"American soldiers, from an infantry division stationed nearby," Vukovic replied.

"And the Tampa operation?"

"The initial attack and the follow-up attack were successful. The nerve agent was successfully introduced into the sprinkler system, but casualties were fewer than expected due to a significantly higher availability of antidote than projected. The virus was never released, because the strike team was detected and engaged by American security forces. Again they were wiped out to the last man."

"There's a pattern here, Laszlo: timely intelligence, tactical brilliance, rapid decision-making and decisive action. Not things normally associated with the Americans since our plans went into effect. That means someone outside the system. Someone who can act independently, but who can call on substantial resources when necessary."

"And that would be this Archangel, sir?"

"Yes, all those skills are his hallmarks."

"May I ask a question, sir?"

The Czar nodded, and Laszlo continued. "Why Tampa for phase 1? It's not exactly a top-tier city; why not New York or Chicago or Los Angeles?"

"I'm sure you are familiar with the term 'recon by fire' are you not?"

"Of course." Laszlo replied. "So you were testing their security and emergency response?"

"Yes, we never expected the response to be so vigorous - or effective for that matter. I want you to go to Florida and determine why the operation went wrong. Fix the problem and implement phase 2 by the end of this week. I also want you to change the target for Fiery Dawn from New Orleans to Tampa. This sort of challenge must be dealt with severely."

"That will inevitably delay the operation." Laszlo noted.

"How long?" the Czar asked with a little bite to his tone.

"Two months," the Serbian stated with confidence.

"Very well then, make it so. There's a presidential debate in Tampa at the end of December, that will be the perfect time to implement Fiery Dawn."

The Serbian made to rise. "With your permission, Sir."

"By all means Laszlo, be about your business." The Serbian turned to leave, only to hear the Czar's final words. "Don't fail me again."

Thirty minutes after the Serbian left, a second knock a second visitor tapped out the same three beat tattoo on the same door.

"Come in Sergei."

Sergei Alexeyev entered and took the proffered seat across the table from the Czar.

His manner was considerably more relaxed than the previous visitor. The contrast in demeanor could have been due to the fact Sergei Alexeyev had a sense of self-importance bordering on megalomania or the fact that he was a co-conspirator and not a mere lackey. Probably both.

"I hear the phase 1 operations didn't go as well as we hoped." He observed.

"The Czar clenched his teeth to avoid snapping at the insufferable prick. He would enjoy killing him when he outlived his usefulness, but for the present… "It did not." He handed his visitor the newspaper that lying on the table next to his empty coffee cup. The front page included a quarter-page photo of Kate and Rick under the headline "Local Business-man Helps FBI."

The story went on to describe how the Orion Institute provided antidote for the victims that saved many lives. It identified Richard Castle as the founder of the Orion Institute.

"Who's the woman?" Alexeyev asked, practically drooling.

"Katherine Beckett," The Czar responded. "She's the head of the FBI's counterterrorist unit in Tampa. I have reason to believe she was also involved in the Colorado Springs operation failure. I need to know what she knows and insure that there is no interference with phase 2 and phase 3."

"She looks lonely," Alekseyev observed with a salacious grin. "She'll never know what hit her, it shouldn't take very long. It should be fun."


	26. Chapter 26

**In which Kate and Rick ask questions and get answers. Rick sentences himself to lifetime foot massages with no possibility of parole.**

Tampa Saturday

Maybe you can help me tie up some loose ends."

Kate nodded and accepted the desk chair Rick pulled out from behind his desk. She was facing a blank wall, at least until Rick snapped his fingers and the wall was suddenly filled with at least a dozen windows displaying information that Kate didn't recognize. One window, the largest one, was displaying a map of Colorado.

Rick stepped to the wall and made a sweeping gesture with his hands that expanded the map to occupy half the wall.

"Nice wall you've got there, Castle." Kate said.

Rick grinned, "Yeah, it's pretty cool. We'll get to the map in a minute, first though, I think you need some backup information." He pulled out a side chair and sat facing Kate. "I think we've all jumped to a conclusion that is not accurate."

"What do you mean Rick?" Kate asked.

"We've all assumed that the attacks here and especially in Colorado Springs were typical terrorist attacks, by typical terrorists.

"What do you mean by typical?" Kate asked, sliding forward to the edge of her seat.

"The goal of the attacks being to cause the maximum number of casualties"

"So what were the goals then?" Kate could feel heart rate speed up slightly.

"I'm not sure yet about the one here, but I'm pretty confident about the one in the Springs. Here, let me show you." Rick stood and walked to the wall and made a complex gesture with both hands. The map of Colorado changed to display Colorado Springs and the surrounding area. Rick tapped the screen with his forefinger, causing a very noticeable black dot to appear. "That's the airstrip where the Stearman took off." A few more indecipherable hand movements and the screen displayed a black line. One end was anchored on the air strip, and the line stretched out to the northwest and ultimately off the screen.

Rick stepped back and turned toward Kate. "See anything interesting?"

Kate stood and gazed intently at the wall. "I'm going to guess that the line is the flight path of the plane."

"Good guess." Rick shot Kate an appreciative glance "Keep going."

Kate let her gaze travel up and down the line. For the majority of the route it traversed a lot of nothing, just open prairie. It was only after the route bypassed the town to the east that it approached any vestiges of civilization. What am I not seeing? The flight path bypassed the town and -bypassed -the town. Omigod!, the town and the festival weren't the target."

Rick interrupted her thoughts, " Figured it out, didn't you?"

"The town wasn't the target." She declared, still a bit lightheaded from the adrenalin rush that accompanied her discovery.

"Nope."

"So what was it?"

"Follow the line." Rick responded.

"All right then, what about this green shaded area, the flight path goes right through the middle of it?"

"Yep, the shaded area is Petersen Air Force Base." Rick responded.

"Is there something special about it?"

"You might say that, it's the headquarters for NORAD." Rick declared.

"I thought that NORAD was in a tunnel in a mountain."

"Cheyenne Mountain, yes, that's the backup command post. But on a normal day, Petersen is the primary command post."

"So if the base was the primary target, what did they hope to accomplish -Kill all the staff at NORAD?"

"I'm sure that would have been a bonus but that wasn't the main goal."

"So what was it, then?"

"You tell me." Rick responded with a bit of a smirk.

Kate's lips compressed into a thin line and she clenched her fists by her side. "Rick, I'm starting to understand why they made Socrates drink the poison. These questions are driving me crazy. Just tell me the significance for goodness sake."

Rick's face broke out into a smile. Not the gigawatt, melt her insides smile that she had seen fleeting glimpses of since they met. But still a smile.

"No can do, Sparrow Hawk. I like watching you think."

"As much as you like staring at my butt?" Kate stifled a laugh as his face went beet red and his gaze darted around the room as if looking for an escape route. Kate blocked his path to the door and he managed to meet her gaze.

"More!" he declared through a choking fit. "Much more."

That's actually kind of sweet. He admires me, the whole package, not just certain physical attributes. When I was trying to date, I got so thoroughly sick of guys I had just met telling me how 'hot' I was that I wanted to strangle them. I definitely don't want to strangle Rick. Actually I'm pretty sure what I want to do is kiss him till his eyes roll back in his head. Woah, down girl. You only met the guy four days ago.

Rick regained his breath and flung another question at her. He had to know. Before he trusted her with the mission, before he trusted her with his life. He had to know if Kate was as smart, as intuitive, as clever as her reputation made her out to be. But, he knew from painful experience that reputations can be manufactured or even bought. "Let's assume that the Stearman was able to deliver the goods at Petersen. What do you think the pilot would have done next?"

"Well, since the airbase is a military target I think he would have attacked another military target if he had one available." Kate answered deliberately as if weighing every word. "What's the nearest target?"

" Cheyenne Mountain," Rick replied.  
"That makes sense, I guess." Kate mused, It wouldn't accomplish much to neutralize the primary command center and leave the backup fully functional, would it?"

"Assuredly not," Rick agreed, giving Kate a nod of approval "So why go after NORAD?"

"Other than the obvious, that the perpetrators are a bunch of psycho bottom feeders?"

Rick chuckled softly and gestured for her to continue, "My best guess is that something was going on in or near U.S. airspace that the bad guys didn't want us to see."

"What could it be Rick?" Kate asked, a tiny bit of fear penetrating her stoic mask.

"Worst case, they were clearing the way for an airstrike against the U.S."

"Pearl Harbor." Kate breathed. "Who would be crazy enough to try such a thing?"

"There's only one other who would have the capability to pull it off - Russia."

"Russia?" Kate's voice fairly dripped with incredulity. "Is there a war going on that I don't know about?"

Rick nodded.

"Since when?"

"Well, to be perfectly accurate, since the end of World War Two."

"Why don't I know about this?" Kate demanded with mounting indignation.

"Because the government cast it as a 'War on Terror' and treated it like a crime and not a war. Terror is a tactic and you can't really wage war on a tactic. Only on the nation states, organizations and ideologies that use it."

"You know, if I were investigating a murder in Tampa," Kate offered, "The first thing I would check would be surveillance cameras in the area. Too bad we can't do that now."

Rick suddenly lunged for his desk causing Kate to execute a graceless pirouette to avoid a collision. "What the h…?" Kate squeaked in surprise. But Rick was already making a call on his deskphone. The conversation consisted mostly of acronyms and numbers. Rick spared a glance at Kate during a lull in the deluge of data rocketing back and forth between Rick's office and NORAD.

She was sitting quietly, listening to Rick's side of the conversation and tapping a forefinger on her thigh. Rick hadn't known Kate well enough to immediately interpret the mannerism, but he could guess. He had some explaining to do.

"So what was that all about?" Kate inquired as Rick returned to his chair and plunked himself down with a weary groan.

"That was General Jeffers at NORAD,"Rick replied. "He's going to send us the radar traces from NWS for the timeframe when the Stearman was shot down."

"NWS?" Kate asked.

"Uh, sorry. Northern Warning System. It's a string of search radar sites along the northern borders of Alaska and Canada." Rick's computer chimed its readiness to begin downloading the files from NORAD. He stood and reached across the desk to press the Enter key. "It's going to take about an hour to complete the download, you want to go back to the den and continue our discussion?"

"Sure," Kate agreed, "Let's go." Rick poured them another glass of wine for each of them and joined Kate on the couch.

"Your turn, he prompted.

"When I asked you how you came to be part owner of The Sanctuary, you said it was a long story. I don't have to be anywhere until tomorrow afternoon, so let's hear it."

Rick felt as if his brain had just released a boatload of endorphins. Did she just offer to spend the night?

"Uh, okay. I was at the after-party for the Nobel Prize ceremony. There were probably a thousand people there, but after about an hour, I was bored out of my mind and looking for something interesting to pass the time. I noticed this nice, grandmotherly lady sitting by herself, nursing a cocktail and looking about as bored as I felt.

"So I wandered over and plopped down beside her. She introduced herself as Isabel Kornati. I recognized her name from the prize list, so I asked her about her research. We found we actually had a lot in common, and we talked about everything under the sun for about three hours, including her passion for helping battered and abused women and addicts. Her vision was so compelling that I pledged to help get The Sanctuary started. We've been partners ever since."

"That's amazing," Kate smiled. "That a world-famous research Institute could come from a simple conversation."

"Yeah, it is. It just happened that Isabel and I shared the same passion."

"Rick, do you mind if I ask you kind of a personal question?"

"No, I suppose not."

"I was curious how you developed a passion for battered women?"

 _That was not the question I was expecting._

"I'm sorry," Kate interrupted when she saw his face darken. "I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay. It's a sad memory, but you'll find out about it eventually, so it might as well be now.

"My father was killed in Vietnam. My mother never recovered from it, and one place it manifested was in the men she chose. Not a one of them was good enough to lick my father's boots, so my sister and I had to put up with a steady stream of losers as we grew up.

"It got really bad when my sister started to fill out her clothes, because some of my mother's 'friends' got the idea that they could have two women for the price of one. I had to beat the crap out of several of them to protect her. Then my sister went off to college and things got a little better for a while.

"My senior year in high school, my mother developed a relationship with a guy named Brad. He was a real loser. I was pretty sure he was a meth addict, but I never saw him hit her. Then, during my second semester at MIT, I got a call from the police in North Carolina telling me she was dead. Brad had knocked her down, and when she fell, she hit her head, causing internal bleeding that killed her, Brad was too strung out on drugs to realize she was dying, so he didn't call 911 until the next day, and by then she was dead.

"I always blamed myself; I thought if I had been there, I could have saved her."

Kate took a deep breath. "Rick, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, Kate."  
"No, it's not. But at least it led you to do something very positive. Is that why you went ballistic with Britney's pimp?"

"Yeah. When he started beating on her, I kind of lost it. Any man hurting a woman just sets me off. Women are meant be cherished, nurtured and protected, not used as punching bags."

She gave him an encouraging smile, and said, "Your turn."

"Why is there no history of you before 1997? Are you in witness protection or something?"

"Wow, you really know how to go to the heart of the matter, don't you?"

"If it's too sensitive, I'll understand."

"No, you need to know, but since the events related to that have pretty much defined who I am and what I am; discussing it is kind of like taking all my clothes off in public."

"As I said, if it's…"

"If we are going to have a relationship based on trust, then it's something you need to know. It indirectly affects you, anyway."

"Okay," he conceded.

"First, I will say that the reason my record starts then is because I was granted refugee status by the US government. That involved an identity change, so Kate Beckett is not my birth name.

"There were serious threats against my life, so my father sent me away for safety. I was sent to live in the U.S. with a couple who had sponsored me. I changed my name to match theirs.

"The Beckett's?"

"Yeah, as far as I'm concerned, they are my parents."

"Why were people threatening you? Was it to get at your father?"

"Yes, he was a prominent politician and he had enemies. They would stop at nothing to destroy him."

"Is your father still alive?"

"Yes," she paused as a tear trailed down her cheek. "But we haven't spoken since he sent me away."

"I'm sorry, Kate."

"Don't be. He made his choice, and he chose his political career over me." She bit out, the tears coming faster.

Rick quickly reached over, took her hand and pulled her against his side then slipped his arm around her shoulders and held her in a firm but gentle embrace.

Gradually her tears stopped and her pulse and breathing returned to normal, but it was some time before Kate's mind settled down and she was able to formulate complete thoughts.

The setting sun had vanished and darkness had flooded into the house when she tilted her head back and met Rick's gaze.

"Thank you," she said. "Thank you for making me feel safe and cherished."

"It's not just a feeling, Kate. You are safe and cherished, and always will be if I have anything to do with it."

"It's getting dark," she noticed.

"Yeah, I'll get up and turn on some lights. How about some music?

"Okay."

"Soft jazz?"

"Perfect."

He walked to the wall switch panel and made an adjustment, bathing the room in soft, indirect light. Next stop the stereo, where he flipped switches and made a selection on a touch screen.

The room was filled with the haunting saxophone of Pamela Williams' The Look of Love. Kate's look of ecstasy when she heard the pure and compelling sounds amused Rick as he returned to the couch. "I'm happy you're enjoying tonight's selection."

"How did you know that's my favorite? And I've never heard a stereo before that actually sounds better than when I heard her live."

"Just a lucky guess," He grinned, "and don't forget, I have access to the most advanced technology on earth. Designing a stereo system was not that big a challenge." He decided to take a chance and sit right next to Kate again. Hopefully, cuddling on his couch was now an accepted form of interaction.

Kate didn't mind, instantly molding her body to his and directing his right arm across her shoulder again. A deep sigh—was it happiness?—escaped. "Mmmm."

"Kate."

"Yes?"

"How about we ditch the boots? I think you'll be more comfortable."

"Okay."

She swung her legs up and around so that they rested across Rick's lap. It had never occurred to her that removing a pair of boots could be so sensual. Rick took her knee in one hand and the heel of the boot in the other. A slow and steady pull was sufficient to remove it, and Kate would swear that he let his hand trail down her calf with a touch that was as delicious as it was unnecessary.

She hoped he didn't notice the shudder that ran through her from toe to head as he caressed her leg. Then he repeated the operation on the other leg, only this time he took even more time sliding the boot off, prolonging the contact. She knew even a blind man couldn't have missed this shudder, and Rick gave her a crooked grin to show that he wasn't blind.

Then an idea occurred to her, and she trotted out her first-ever wicked smile. "Since you seem to enjoy touching my legs so much, why don't you give me a foot massage?"

"Your merest whim is my command, milady. But first, excuse me for a second." He slid out from under her legs and hurried down the hall to his bedroom, returning in a few seconds with a small bottle of an almost clear liquid.

He poured a small amount into his palm and rubbed both hands together to warm it, filling the air with a relaxing, flowery fragrance. Then, taking her foot in his hand, he began to circle his thumb over the sole, pausing at pressure points to gauge her reaction and applying extra pressure where indicated. Kate lay back on the couch and moaned with pleasure at the warmth that began at her feet and was traveling rapidly up her legs and into her abdomen.

"Rick, what is that? It smells incredible."

"Jojoba oil with lavender and peppermint essential oils," he replied, and went back to working on the top of her foot with a casual expertise that soothed her. She closed her eyes and let the sensations carry her to a warm, dreamy place where every cell in her body tingled with delight. She hadn't really thought he would do it, but when he took up her challenge, he did it with a virtuosity that surprised her—although it probably shouldn't have. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. I'm right on the edge of losing control, but no way do I want him to stop.

As if he could read her mind, Rick finished his ministrations and looked up. "That's the complimentary introductory foot massage. Any more, you have to pay."

She blinked and asked somewhat suspiciously, "And the price would be what?"

"A kiss."

"That's a lot for a foot rub."

"It's a lot of foot rub."

"Better than this?" she asked skeptically.

"You have no idea."

Kate couldn't imagine anything better, at least anything that she would be able to walk away from. She was sorely tempted, but in spite of how well things had progressed, she wasn't quite ready to escalate things to the level of kissing. "I'll keep that in mind," she promised.


	27. Chapter 27

At that moment, her stomach chose to remind her that she hadn't eaten lunch.

Rick chuckled. "Sounds like the lady's hungry."

"I'm famished. If you want me to stay," she gave him a pixyish grin, "you have to feed me."

Rick stood, drawing her up with him. "I wasn't expecting company, so we'll just have to see what Maria left this morning."

"Who's Maria?" she inquired as they strolled hand in hand toward the kitchen.

"Maria is my housekeeper, sometimes cook, personal shopper and surrogate mother. She restocks my fridge with fresh food every couple of days. She was here this morning, but I don't know what she left. We'll just have to see."

They entered the kitchen and stopped in front of the double-door commercial refrigerator. When Rick opened the doors, Kate was shocked at how little food there was. Her fridge was usually packed to the gills with leftover takeout containers growing species of mold new to science. She only emptied it when one of the containers growled at her or Hayley came over and yelled a lot.

Rick pulled out the butcher paper package labeled mahi mahi. He looked at Kate, "Fish?" She nodded. He also pulled out a Ziploc bag full of green beans and placed them on the island countertop. "I'll make you a deal. I'll do the fish and dessert, and you do the veggies."

"Deal," she responded, "but I only see one veggie."

"Oh, right." He went to a section of cabinet and pulled it out, revealing two wire bins. From one he extracted a plastic bag and handed it to Kate, "Fingerling potatoes."

"Oh good," she said, "I love those."

"There are some fresh herbs growing in pots out on the deck. Feel free to use them if you want. Would you like your mahi broiled, grilled, or blackened?"

"Blackened would be great."

"I'm going to do the fish out on the deck. If you need me, call. Otherwise, have at it."

"I'll be fine, go do the fish." Kate could hardly wait to have the run of Rick's amazing kitchen.

Rick was standing by the grill when he heard her footsteps, and turned as she approached, greeting her with a smile.

"The potatoes Rick take about forty minutes to cook," she informed him.

"Okay, I'll wait thirty minutes or so before putting the fish on so they'll get done about the same time." Noticing the scissors she was carrying, he pointed to a tiered shelf where the herbs were growing. She collected a sprig of rosemary and one of thyme before heading back to the kitchen.

Rick watched her go, mesmerized by her simple beauty and the grace with which she moved. After she disappeared into the kitchen, he thought about how to use the thirty minutes he had before it would be necessary to start the fish. The decision was predictable. He followed her into the house. As he slipped through the sliding glass door into the dining room, he was surprised to hear her singing:  
I don't know how you do what you do I'm so in love with you It just keeps getting better I wanna spend the rest of my life With you by my side Forever and ever

He paused in the dining room, entranced by her voice and the lyrics, which he recognized as Lonestar's Amazed. His pulse raced. Were the lyrics a picture of what was in her heart, or was it just a random selection, the product of nothing more than happy coincidence?

He eased forward to the opening to the kitchen and peered in. She had her back to him, apparently tossing the potatoes with olive oil and the chopped fresh herbs she had gathered. He scooted around the corner and stood leaning against the wall.

He never knew how she detected his presence, but she suddenly spoke, "Rick, why are you staring at me again?"

"Two reasons," he answered, deciding that honesty was the best policy. "First, you are absolutely stunning, and I like looking at you. Second, this is the first time that a woman other than Maria has been in the kitchen, much less singing while she worked."

A blush worked its way up from beneath her collar. "You heard that!"

"Some of it."

"Omigod, I'm so embarrassed." She buried her face in her hands.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, Kate. You sing beautifully."

"It's not that." She admitted, her voice considerably muffled by her hands, which were still covering her face.

"If not that, then what? You meant it, didn't you, the words of the song?"

"I hope so - some day," still muffled.

"Kate, I don't know what to say."

"I know, I've been pushing too hard. Please don't run away. Please."

"And here I thought I was pushing too hard, that you would run away."

She broke into giggles, "Aren't we pathetic?"

"Kate, if I don't hug you now, I may not survive the night. Could we maybe try a six-second hug?"

"Six-second hug? Why six seconds?"

"Oh, it's something my sister told me. A hug lasting less than five seconds is a social hug, a five- to ten-second hug is a friend hug, and a hug lasting more than ten seconds is foreplay."

"What the hell," she said with a saucy smile. "Let's try for nine!"

No further words were needed. They came together as surely as two magnets of opposite polarity. No power on earth could have prevented it, and he enfolded her in his arms and felt her melt against him.

Rick tried to get his brain to process coherent thoughts, without much success. Who was this woman who could so thoroughly bewitch, bewilder, and befuddle him in less than a week? Never had one captivated him so thoroughly, and done it in a way that had him begging for more.

Finally, they moved apart, and he held her at arm's length, gazing deep into her eyes. This time she didn't run, but matched him gaze for gaze, and he knew she could see the same adoration, wonder and longing that he saw in her eyes.

Finally Kate broke the spell. "That was incredible."

"It was," Rick agreed. "If they ever make hugging an Olympic sport, I think we would be a lock for a gold medal."

"Me too, but right now let's focus on dinner, and we'll get back to this afterward."

"Okay," Rick agreed, squashing some immediate and highly diverting fantasies. Rick decided there was no time like the present, so he cleared his throat, getting Kate's attention.

"Yes, Rick?"

"Kate please don't take this wrong, but I have a very comfortable guest suite upstairs and I was kind of…uh…wondering if you would…uh…like to stay the night?"

"I'd love to," she answered, and then laughed as Rick's face expressed utter astonishment. "I told you, no more running"

"Okay, while we're waiting on the potatoes, let's go to my room, and we'll try to find something for you to sleep in."

"I uh kind of packed an overnight bag."

"Pretty sure of yourself, weren't you, Sparrow Hawk?"

"Not at all, but I am sure about us."

"Us?" His mind went into overdrive, parsing the simple little word in every way possible, trying (but not hoping) to find alternate meanings. Meanings that would not shake the foundations of his world. Nope, first person plural object pronoun, only one possible meaning: you and I together. He could feel a nascent grin make itself known by a slight upturn of the corners of his lips.

"So there's an 'us' now?" He asked.

"Only if you want to…"

"Kate, I honestly can't think of anything I've ever wanted more."

"Me, neither," she breathed and stepped in for another hug.

They broke apart when Kate's phone signaled incoming text messages. She read one message and looked at Rick with a slightly puzzled expression. "This message from Roy says I'm supposed to attend some conference, and that I should see you for travel arrangements. What's that all about?"

"This is the fabled 'future talk' you've been hearing about. I'll give you more details after supper."

"Okay…I guess. This better be good."

"Trust me."

She opened another message and burst out laughing. "Looks like Hayley and Javier had a good time today." She turned the screen so Rick could see it. The screen showed the letters BFFDE in large block letters with animated flames flickering around them.

"What does BFFDE mean?" he asked.

"Best Freaking First Date Ever." She giggled.

"Oh, I guess it was better than good." He noticed that she was still fiddling with her phone, while trying to stifle more giggles. "What are you up to?"

"Sending Hayley a report on our date. It's a requirement of the Best Friends Code."

"But it's not a date," he protested.

"You can make it up to me later; in the meantime, don't interrupt my hilarity with your logic."

"Sorry." Did she just accept the idea of a real date?

The message was finished to her satisfaction, and she handed the phone to Rick. The letters BAATFFDE filled the screen with pulsing neon, and for the background, she had downloaded an image of a mushroom cloud taken from an archive photo of one of the early nuclear tests. "I'm kind of scared to ask what BAATFFDE stands for."

"Best Absolutely Awesome Totally Freaking First Date Ever," she answered with a brilliant smile.

"That good, huh?"

"Better, but I don't want to rub it in." She hit send and slipped the phone back into her purse. "Let's go, we have a dinner to finish."

When they returned to the kitchen, the timer still showed a few minutes, so Rick said, "If you follow me, I'll show you to your room."

She followed him up the stairs to the only door on the hallway that was open. Rick bowed ostentatiously and waved her in with a majestic sweep of his arm.

Kate stepped into the room and halted in mid stride. A room is just a room, she told herself, but this one managed to convey a sense of comfort and serenity, with a little romance thrown in for good measure. She pivoted in place, taking it all in, finally realizing her mouth was open and closing it quickly, looking at Rick to see if he had noticed.

He had, but his smile was gentle and loving, with not a whit of teasing.

The floor was covered with natural-colored linen carpet, which worked perfectly with the blue-gray walls. To the left was a small sitting area made up of two wing chairs and a tea table. Directly ahead was the doorway to the en-suite bathroom.

None of these, however, was what had halted her in her tracks and taken her breath away. That honor was firmly held by the bed to the right. It was an English William and Mary-style canopy bed with white sheers serving as the canopy. The four posts were elaborately turned and the headboard was inlaid with a lighter-colored wood. The wood itself drew her over, and she admired the almost three-dimensional appearance of the curly grain pattern. "Rick, did you make this?"

"Yes."

"This is the most beautiful bed I've ever seen, what kind of wood is this?"

"Thank you. It's Cuban mahogany, with many hand-rubbed coats of oil and wax."

"Wow, I hope it sleeps as well as it looks."

"I think you can count on that. Let's get back to dinner."

Kate laid her bag on the bed and followed Rick back down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, she removed the roasted potatoes from the oven and grated some Parmigiano Reggiano over the beans. She found the plates after a quick search and started to plate the vegetables. With perfect timing, Rick walked in with the blackened mahi filets and transferred one to each plate.

"Why don't you carry the plates into the dining room and I'll grab a bottle of wine?" he suggested.

"Okay, but I didn't know there was a wine that goes well with blackened fish."

"Trust me."

"Of course," she sighed. "I should know by now, shouldn't I?"

"Yep."

She picked up the plates and headed for the dining room while Rick hustled into the bar where he selected a bottle of Hugel 2004 Gewürztraminer. He quickly opened the bottle and got two glasses from the overhead rack. Joining Kate in the dining room, he took the seat diagonally across the corner from her and filled their wine glasses.

She sipped the coppery-colored wine and smiled. "I've never tasted anything like this before, it's kind of spicy and fruity and smooth all at the same time. What do you call this?"

"Gewürztraminer," he replied. "It's sort of the signature wine of the Alsace region in France."

By unspoken consent, they both dove into the meal, Kate going for the fish first, Rick for the potatoes. Both moaned in appreciation.

"You weren't kidding when you said you can cook," Rick enthused in between bites of potato. "This is like biting into a piece of heaven."

She could feel herself blush a bit at the praise. This was actually the first time she had ever cooked for anyone other than Hayley, and she had been a little worried about making a good first impression. She realized her fears were groundless when Rick polished off the last of his potatoes and reached over with his fork to steal some from her plate. She smacked his hand playfully, and he withdrew with one potato as a hard-earned trophy.

"Eat your fish, it's wonderful," she directed.

"Yes, ma'am. "

The rest of the meal seemed to go too quickly, as they bantered back and forth, teasing and making small talk. They carried the dishes to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher. Kate excused herself to go upstairs to freshen up and Rick took the opportunity to go to his room to brush his teeth and splash some cold water on his face. What he really needed was a cold shower, but that would have to wait.


	28. Chapter 28

When Kate came back downstairs, Rick was sitting in his office, contemplating the display on the smart wall. It looked considerably different than when they left for dinner. Bright green symbols jostled for space against the inky blackness of the background. Green lines crisscrossed the screen, looking like nothing else but a bowl of alien fluorescent green spaghetti.

"Anything interesting" Kate asked, reclaiming Rick's desk chair and situating herself to focus on the screen.

"I haven't started it yet," Rick responded, "Waiting for you."

"That's actually kind of sweet," Kate murmured. "Most of the men I've worked with would have plowed on ahead and left me to catch up on my own."

Rick chose not to comment, instead making a hand gesture to animate the display. The symbols began to move across the screen, cryptic numbers appeared and disappeared and the glowing lines wove a seemingly random pattern that dominated the display.

"I'm guessing that the lines are the flight paths of aircraft?" Kate mused. "I can't make heads or tails of this thing." Kate declared with more than a hint of frustration.

Rick chuckled softly. "It will all clear up in a minute. But I just wanted you to see what the folks at NORAD are up against. On any given day, there are more civilian aircraft in the skies over the U.S. than in all the air forces in the world."

"Seriously?"

"Absolutely." Rick responded. "What you're seeing here is the master display combining the take from all the NWS radar sites. It is way too busy to be useful, so I'm going to narrow it down to one station ." He performed his usual handwaving and the display changed. The glowing lines disappeared and the display showed a much smaller area.

Rick pointed to a trapezoidal shaped icon that was located in the far, far north of Canada's Nunavut Province on the shores of the Barents Sea. The letters PPI sat next to the icon and periodic fan-shaped pulses of the green light flashed outward from the icon. This is Prince Patrick Island radar station. The triangle-shaped icons are aircraft. The solid colored ones are unidentified, or unfriendly. The outlined ones are friendlies."

Rick laughed at the almost painfully intense look of concentration on Kate's face. Her fists were clenched and there was a slight tremor evident in the muscles of her forearms. I knew she was capable of almost superhuman concentration and focus, but this is a revelation. I fear for the health of my smart wall if that gaze gets any more intense. I wonder what she's thinking.

"What do the smaller letters and numbers beside each icon mean?" Kate questioned suddenly, interrupting his thoughts.

"The first number is the transponder code, it tells you whether the aircraft is civilian or military, which airline it belongs to and what kind of aircraft it is," Rick replied. "The other numbers tell you the aircraft's heading, altitude and airspeed."

"So, tell me about this one." Kate directed, pointing to one of the triangles.

"Yeah." Rick responded, studying the numbers. "That one is a Canadair 747, Flight 56, from Helsinki to Vancouver. Current airspeed is 497 mph. Current altitude is 34,000 ft and current heading is 240."

"Hmmmm," Kate pondered the screen for another minute without speaking, the tip of her tongue swiping gently across her lips every few seconds. "What about this one?"

Rick removed his glasses and polished the lenses with the tail of his t-shirt. She's on to something. She's eyeing that last icon like a hungry tiger eyes a t-bone. Whatever she comes up with is probably going to be verrrrry interesting. He returned his glasses to their perch and studied the display. "That one is an Aeroflot 777, flight 234, from Moscow to Dallas/Fort Worth."

Kate glanced up and inquired "Rick, do you notice anything unusual about this icon?"

"Uh, no,"

"Look closer." she ordered.

"Okay," He studied the screen for several more seconds. As he started to turn back to Kate, something caught his eye and he focused more intently on the icon Kate had pointed out. There—-there it was again. a flicker or sparkle around the icon. Damn, that girls good. Not one person in a million would've caught that.

"Is that normal?" she asked.

"No, I don't think so. Let's see if there are any other 777's on the board and see if there are any more examples of this phenomenon."

"I already checked," Kate replied with a slightly smug grin.

" Care to share with the class?"

"Yeah, there are nine 777's on the board. Four more are doing this weird sparkly thing."

Rick's breath catches in his throat as he examines the transponder codes of the five aircraft Kate identified. "Bastards." He snarls forcefully after getting his breath back.

"Rick…..?"

"Those five are all Aeroflot." he said thoughtfully.

"Aeroflot, as in Russian?

"Yep."

"They're awfully close together aren't they?" Kate asked.

"They are." Rick agreed. "I have an idea." He scooped his tablet off the desk and tapped and swiped for several long seconds before emitting a low rumbling growl. "There are no scheduled Aeroflot flights to DFW."

Kate sat up straight "What about specials?"

"Give me a second," he responded. "I'll have to access some other databases for that." Another minute passed and he met Kate's gaze. "Russia received a special authorization to transport a 500 megawatt power plant that was purchased by Colombia. Five 777 flights to Bogota, with refueling in DFW."

"Sounds innocent enough." Kate mused, but her eyes maintained their laser focus on the offending icons.

"Nothing innocent about this situation, it stinks to high heaven. Whatever is going down, it's not a power plant delivery."

"Positive?" Kate asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, these are the cargo version of the triple seven, but that fact doesn't matter right at the moment, the components of a power plant wouldn't fit through the cargo bay doors."

"So the Russians didn't want us to know what the planes were carrying."

"Pretty safe bet." Rick agreed. "Not to mention being a huge coincidence."

"I wonder what they did when the Stearman was shot down?"

"Easy enough to check," He responded and placed his hand above the time scale indicator on the screen and swiped to the right, advancing the time on the display. "What you're seeing now is three minutes after the shoot down."

Kate turned back to the smart board and she met Rick's gaze with a look of abject puzzlement. "They didn't turn back. Isn't that a little strange?"

"More than a little," Rick agreed. "I would've thought that if they were up to something, they would've beat feet back to the homeland when the Stearman went down. Let's see if they made their scheduled refueling stop in DFW." He proposed, retrieving his tablet from his desktop. "Hmmm," he muttered as he absorbed the info his quick search had revealed. "Hmmm," he repeated, a very unhappy and tight-lipped kind of 'hmmm.'

"What is it Rick?" Kate prompted, concern evident in her tone.

"They didn't refuel in DFW, filed an amended flight plan direct to Bogota."

"There's more isn't there?"

He nodded a short choppy nod and decided to rip the band aid off all at once. "They didn't land in Bogota either."

"There's more." A statement not a question.

"Take a look at your icons again." he suggested.

"The sparkle is gone." She observed succinctly. Rick detected a touch of fear which she swiftly buried. In truth that fear was nothing he held against her. She was clearly a very smart woman and she had already absorbed enough information to kindle the fear that he saw flit across her beautiful face. He was reasonably sure from his own processing of the data, what had almost occurred and he was scared shitless.

"Kate." he rasped, his mouth suddenly dry.

She didn't answer, merely quirked an eyebrow upward, encouraging him to continue.

"I need legal advice."

"What?"

"I need l—"

"Legal advice, I know, I heard you. You want it from me?"

"You are the only representative of the profession readily available." He answered with a sardonic grin.

Kate rolled her eyes, "You really know how to make a girl feel special, Castle."

"It's a talent." he chuckled.

"I'm probably going to regret this, but why do you need legal advice?"

He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath before speaking with a glacial calm that belied the emotions warring within. "Because I'm about to commit several felonies, and there is this hard ass federal agent hanging around and I don't want to see the inside of Leavenworth any time soon."

"Rick…er…uh…felony?" Kate sputtered. She stepped into his personal space and treated him to the unrestrained Beckett glare. "What. Are. You. Going. To. Do?"

"Show you what was really going on over there." He replied with a slight jerk of his head toward the smart wall.

"Oh, but I have a top secret clearance, if that's what's bothering you."

"There's not a classification high enough for this information, Kate. If anyone ever learns that I shared this with you, we'll both have lifetime memberships at Club Fed."

"Ummmh, Rick, I…"

"You want to know, I know you do."

Kate gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod. "You've corrupted me, Rick Castle. But, God help me I do want to know; if it squares with my oath to defend the Constitution."

"Trust me."

"Okay, what do you have to show me?"

"First, I didn't pick PPI radar station at random."

"No surprise there." Kate responded. "So what's special about this radar station and why do you know its dark secrets?"

"Because I invented it." He stated without a trace of drama. "It has some capabilities only a handful of people know about."

"Well, since I'm already a felon, you might as well tell me the rest."

"All right." Rick nodded and motioned Kate back to her seat. "First let me give you some background. There are two limitations to conventional radar. First, it can't really see over the horizon and second, it doesn't show anything worthy of being called an image, just a blob."

"So your gizmo solves those issues?" Kate asked.

"Yep, pretty much." He made a hand gesture and the smart wall display changed dramatically. Rick had focused on one of the non-sparkle icons. Kate was not a plane person. To be perfectly obvious she would have a hard time distinguishing an Airbus from a school bus, but the image was clearly a twin engined airliner. Her gasp of recognition caused Rick to puff out his chest a bit and his smile widened a fraction.

"That's incredible," Kate exclaimed "How did you do that?"

"There's a group of autonomous lighter than air craft that work with the radar station. They retransmit the signal from the station and receive any return signals from multiple locations. Think of the difference between an x-ray and a CT scan. It gives us over the horizon capability and 3-D images, although a bit grainy." He paused for a second to let her absorb the information. "Ready to take a look at one of the sparkly ones?"

"It's going to be bad, isn't?"

"Probably."

"I thought you already know what was going on?" Kate protested.

I don't know," He replied, "but I have a pretty good idea"

"All right," Kate sighed, "I've always been a 'rip the band-aid off' kind of girl. So let's see it."

Rick did another one of his hand-waving things and the screen changed dramatically.

"What the h…?" Kate blurted out only to be cut off by Rick's growl.

"Damn the rot-in-hell bastards!"

Kate forced herself not to take a step back, knowing that Rick's fury was not in any way directed at her. He didn't get that worked up at the golf course, this must be really bad. She continued to study the display which looked nothing at all like a 777.

"It looks like love bugs." Kate marveled. Indeed, the object looked like an avant garde sculpture of Florida's infamous, amorous insect pest.

"It does, doesn't it?" Rick acknowledged with a grimace. "I wish that was all this was…." His voice trailed off into an ominous silence.

"What else?" Kate demanded.

"Easier to show than tell." Rick stated and made some more of his indecipherable gestures. The display changed from the radar plot to a TV-like image.

Four large aircraft filled the window, but they were flying such close formation that they almost appeared to be one aircraft. One was a large twin-engined airliner. The other three were completely different. Somewhat smaller and much sleeker, they were clearly not airliners. "What are those." Kate puzzled, "I've never seen anything like them."

"Not surprising," Rick informed her. They're not supposed to exist."

"What…?"

"I think they're PAK - D's. It's a Russian stealth bomber that's supposed to still be in development. Obviously that tidbit of intelligence is a bit out of date."

"Bombers? They were going to attack us?"

Yeah, I'm guessing they were going to take out our ICBM sites. If they had managed to take out NORAD nobody would have seen it until it was too late."

Kate felt lightheaded at the thought. "If the Stearman had gotten through…?"

"Pearl Harbor, only a thousand times worse." Rick added.

"Where'd they go?" Kate wondered.

"Probably broke formation and the 777's continued on while the bombers turned around and went home." Rick started typing madly on his tablet. I'm letting NORAD know what to look for, they may be able to run it down."

He finished typing and turned to Kate who was still studying the board, "There's nothing else we can do here tonight. you want to continue our discussion or what?"

She nodded, "I need something normal to take my mind off what almost happened." 


	29. Chapter 29

She sat on the couch and turned to face him, pulling her legs up and crossing them Indian-style. "Is there anything else that you want to know about me?" she asked.

Rick thought for a second. "Why did you become an FBI agent? Women as smart as you with Yale law degrees generally become lawyers, not cops."

"Something really bad happened to me in Law School and a sleaze ball lawyer made sure that the person responsible was never punished. The New Haven police made a couple of small errors in gathering evidence and the lawyer used that to subvert the system. It infuriated me, and then I realized that it happens every day, that regular people are denied justice because the cops are not good enough or don't care enough to get it exactly right. So when the FBI came to recruit on campus I decided to check it out. I decided I wanted to put bad guys in a hole so deep that no lawyer could ever dig them out. I wanted to fight so that no other woman ever had to go through what I did. I wanted to be the best agent ever."

"Would you tell me about the law school incident?"

"Yes," she said, and recounted the story almost exactly as she had told Hayley.

Rick's eyes had gone dark and his jaw was clenched when she finished.

"This Drew fellow, what was his full name?"

"Rick, you're not going to…"

"Do something stupid? No, but you never know who you might meet in a dark alley."

"I don't …"

"Kate listen to me, I can find out on my own, but I think it's better if you tell me."

"Andrew, Andrew Bracken."

"Would he by any chance be the son of Senator William Bracken?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"He's the bastard responsible for getting me kicked out of the Marines. He and I already have a date in a dark alley; he just doesn't know it yet."

Kate shuddered at his tone, knowing that Rick didn't make threats. He was stating a certainty.

She decided to get the discussion back on topic. "So now you know all my secrets, do you still want me?"

"Are you seriously afraid of that, me not wanting you?" Rick asked with a gentleness that gave her a fluttery feeling.

"What can I offer you? I'm nobody special, just a half-broken government employee with tons of baggage and miles of insecurities. You could have any woman you want. Why me?"

"I've met many women who have made it clear they're interested in me," he said, "but most of them don't really want me. They want my fame, or money, Ferraris, or maybe a sanitized and homogenized version of me, but not the real me. I want a woman who'll love the real me, the hillbilly from the mountains of North Carolina who got lucky. I want a woman who'll be my best friend, the person I can always count on, a woman with a sense of adventure, with a sense of humor, with an unshakable commitment to duty and honor. I want a woman who's strong and independent, yet gentle and caring, who's brave when necessary and who's smart enough to keep me on my toes."

He glanced at Kate and clearly saw the fear she tried so hard to conceal. "Kate, I'm forty-seven years old, and in all my life, I've only met two women who were all of those things. One of them is dead, and one is sitting on the couch with me this very instant. You asked what you can offer me. You can offer me the most precious thing in this world, the heart of an extraordinary woman, and I want your whole heart. Nothing less will do."

The tears were flowing, but she hoped her smile gave away their import. She was deliriously happy; to hear those words from a man she trusted implicitly was almost more than she could stand. She tried to untangle her legs so she could slide over to him, but he preempted her intentions by the simple expedient of lifting her bodily into his lap. As he folded her in his arms, she met his gaze and whispered, "You already have my whole heart, have for some time now."

"When?" he asked.

"Last night at The Sanctuary. You should thank Britney, she was the final link."

"I will."

"I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you," she said in a rush, before she could chicken out. "I just don't have any experience in this romance thing, I've only been on a few dates, I didn't go to my prom, I've never kissed a guy," she paused, then coughed, then forced the words out, "neverhadsex."

Rick gently stroked his fingers through her hair. "It's not even remotely possible that you could ever disappoint me. I would count it a great honor to experience those first times with you. Do you remember that off-the-charts hug this afternoon?"

"I'll never forget it."

"Everything we do is going to be like that, off the charts."

They sat quietly for some time, just enjoying each other's presence.

Then Kate roused herself and posed a question. "Can you tell me some more about the conference?"

"The main purpose is to implement a plan that Jordan and I have been working on for some time. Other than you and Hayley, everyone else who will be there knows the objective, but not the details. That's all I can say right now. Jordan will skin me if I spill the beans ahead of time."

"Who else is going to be there?"

"Jordan, Vienna, Javier, Hayley, you, and me. Maybe a couple more."

"Where is it going to be?"

"At my house in the Keys."

"You have a house in the Keys?"

"Yep, you'll love it, it's very tropical."

"Is it on the beach?"

"Yep, private and secluded, so be sure and pack a swimsuit, preferably a bikini." He winked at her.

"Rick Castle, what you would do if you saw me in a bikini?" she teased.

"Die happy." They both laughed.

"I told all the other participants that anyone who wanted to do so was welcome to stay over the weekend. It's already been cleared with your boss."

"Well, in that case, I guess I will."

"Would you like to go on a date with me Friday night while we're in the Keys?"

"Sure! Where were you going to take me?"

"We'll only be twenty miles from Key West, and there's just about any kind of nightlife you could want there. Do you dance?"

"Salsa, Tango, Samba, yes, others—not so much."

"So then, dinner and dancing?

"Okay, I'd love to." She was quiet for a minute, then looked up at him and said, "Tell me some more about you."

"What part?"

"What did you do after the court-martial?"

"I was pretty much in shock. Losing Kyra, the baby, and my career so close together almost destroyed me. I went into a deep depression and drank too much, spent what little money I had and pretty much hit rock bottom."

Kate's heart ached for him; the pain that drove the valiant man she knew to such depths must have been unimaginable. "How did you come back from that?" she asked.

"Two people showed up at the shabby motel where I was staying. I never did know whether they planned it that way or if it was just coincidence. However it was, they both gave me a reason to live."

"Rick, who were they?"

"The first was J. Edwards Pritchard…"

"The president of the university?"

"Yeah, except he wasn't the president then, he was the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences, and he reiterated an offer that he had made a while before and I had forgotten about. He offered me an associate professorship with tenure if I would continue the work in physics I had done for my dissertation at Cal Tech. He was a visionary and saw the potential in my work even before I did. He gave me a year to get sober and straighten myself out before I had to report for work."

"Who was the other person?" Kate asked, fascinated.

"Jordan Shaw."

"I've wondered how you two got to be so close."

"She was teaching at Georgetown, so she took me back with her and put me up at her place. Then she threatened, badgered, nagged, bludgeoned, and pummeled me to quit drinking and get myself back in shape. Hell, she even promised to sleep with me if I stayed sober for a year."

"Did you?" Kate wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to that question.

"Sleep with her or stay sober?"

"Both."

"I stayed sober, and, no, I didn't sleep with her. It would have ruined everything."

Rick took a large sip of his wine and a deep breath before continuing.

"So I took up the faculty position at USF in the fall of 2002. The work was going well, so I started looking for a graduate student. I interviewed dozens of kids, but none of them really clicked. One evening I left work late and was really hungry, so I stopped at Shogun over on Dale Mabry for dinner.

The bartender was this gorgeous young Asian woman, so I sat at the bar, thought maybe I could get her number. When she brought my drink, I noticed she had a wedding ring, so I switched to just friendly conversation.

"It was slow that night so we had plenty of time to talk. I found out first of all that her husband was a sushi chef at the same restaurant, then that she was working to save up for graduate school. Her main interest was in Biomedical Engineering, but I told her that if she was willing to help with my research, then I thought I could get her a fellowship that would pay all her expenses."

"This was Vienna, right?"

"Yeah. I didn't realize it at the time, but that was one of the tipping points of my life."

"So she accepted the fellowship?"

"Yep, and we dove in to finishing up my research, and published an article in Classical and Quantum Gravity that really rocked the physics world."

"What was the article about?"

"We solved one of the great questions in physics; we were able to prove that repulsive gravity exists."

"That was really big?"

"Big enough that the next year we were nominated for the Nobel Prize. We didn't win, but it was still a great honor"

"I get it," she grinned. "Really big. Is that when you started Orion?"

"Yes," he nodded. "There were two reasons why I started Orion, the main reason you'll find out later. The other reason was to find cutting-edge research that was coming out of the university and develop it into something that was commercially viable.

"Vienna and I combed through the research that was going on then and found literally dozens of pieces of technology that just needed a little development work to be a moneymaker.

The university gave us a building to get started and we started hiring the best people we could find. In that respect, the Nobel recognition came in handy, since it attracted people who otherwise wouldn't have given us the time of day.

"To make a long story short, within a year we had patented twelve innovations and licensed them to various corporations, and the royalties started to roll in.

"The most important thing I did to get Orion to where it is today was to turn the day-to-day management of the Institute over to Vienna. I got a lot of flak over that decision, but my gut told me it was the right thing to do, and I always go with my gut. Turns out, I was right. She is a positive genius at organization and management. Most of the credit for the success of the organization belongs to her."

"So, you own Orion?"

"Sort of. It's set up as a closely held corporation. There are only three stockholders, me, Vienna and the university. I'll also tell you that I don't take a penny out of Orion; I don't draw a salary, and my share of the profits either goes back into the Institute or to charity. Vienna operates pretty much the same way, except she does draw a salary."

"That's an amazing story, Rick! Who would've thought that you would have walked out of a court-martial fifteen years ago and end up where you are today?"

"I agree. I keep pinching myself to see if I'm dreaming."

"Speaking of dreaming, I just looked at the clock, and it's almost one am. How about we call it a night, and pick up this conversation in the morning?"

"Okay, I didn't realize it was that late, either." He set her on her feet and stood, taking her hand in his, and leading her to the foot of the stairs. "I could come tuck you in," he said, giving her his signature grin.

"Uh-uh, I'm a big girl, and I think I can put myself to bed," she gave him a half-hearted glare, but then added, "…maybe next time."

He stood, watching her ascend the stairs. Halfway up she looked back over her shoulder. "Rick, you're staring at me again."

"Uh…sorry. Goodnight, Kate."

"Goodnight, Rick." She disappeared down the hall to the guest room. 


	30. Chapter 30

Kate closed the door to the room and did a little happy dance on the way to the bed. She had bared her soul, and he still wanted her. Her heart was racing, and she forced herself to breathe deeply and focus on getting ready for bed.

That seemed to calm her, and she retrieved her bag and pulled out her normal sleepwear, sleep shorts and a tank top. She went into the bathroom to change and was blown away by the amenities. There was a Jacuzzi tub almost big enough to swim laps in, and wonder of all, a steam shower.

Turning from one to the other in a moment of indecision, she finally decided on the shower. Stripping quickly, she turned on the steam and seated herself on the bench. Soon she was enveloped in delightfully warm cloud of eucalyptus-scented vapor. "Aaaahhhh," escaped her lips as she felt the tension and stress of the week drain away. A girl could get used to this.

And then it got even better. The steam timed out and the showerheads came on automatically, set to just the right temperature. She stood on rubbery legs and luxuriated in the feel of the gentle spray from multiple showerheads bathing every inch of her body at the same time. Yep, I could get used to this!

Then, remembering what she was actually there for, she scrubbed down and washed her hair. Stepping out of the shower, she grabbed a towel and started to dry off, only to moan at the feel of the towel against her skin. I feel like I should arrest myself, this towel has got to be illegal. A salon-quality hair dryer was mounted on the wall next to the sink, and her hair was quickly dried.

Pulling on her shorts and tank top, she wandered over to check out the bed. She pulled down the comforter and gaped. A feather bed—seriously? She turned off the lights and slid in, pulling the comforter up to her chin. It was like lying on a cloud, so comfortable that she couldn't find words to describe it adequately.

Then a thought popped in. If the guest room is this awesome, I wonder what Rick's room is like? Before she could speculate further, her eyes closed of their own volition and she drifted into a deep and blissful sleep.

Rick watched Kate disappear toward the guest room, and stood for a few minutes, feeling completely bemused. What had this woman done to him, that he couldn't string two coherent thoughts together unless they were about her?

Then it hit him with a force that left him reeling; it wasn't so much what she had done to him, it was what he had done to himself. He had fallen completely and overwhelmingly in love with Kate Beckett. In four days. He had heard of so-called whirlwind romances, but this would have to be a category-five hurricane romance. Hurricane Kate.

He thought for a moment of following her up the stairs, but the few functional neurons he had left vetoed that idea immediately. Instead, he wended his way toward his room, where he completed his preparations for bed. After climbing in, he gazed across the empty expanse of the king-size mattress and felt, for the first time in years, unutterably sad and lonely.

The feel of Kate's body next to his on the couch had ruined him. Never again would he sleep alone with equanimity. He lay awake for some time, staring into the darkness, weighing, pondering, questioning, and analyzing everything that had happened, everything said since his initial trip to the Bureau.

He believed there was ample evidence that Kate loved him, but she hadn't actually said the fateful words. Was that on purpose, or just an oversight? He gradually fell into a restless, unsatisfying sleep filled with new worries and old terrors.

The four stealthed Black Hawks appeared out of the night like angels of death and were on the ground almost before the inhabitants of the small cluster of ramshackle buildings could react. A few scattered shots greeted the helicopters, probably from the few sentries that were awake and alert. As the Black Hawks touched down, a Marine special ops platoon tumbled from the aircraft, hit the ground running and moved to their assigned objectives. Two squads under the platoon sergeant formed a defensive perimeter around the helicopters and another two squads followed their young platoon leader towards the largest structure. The fighters who called this place home were fully awake now and bullets flew like angry hornets. There were more than a hundred of the guerillas, but as always training and discipline proved to be a force-multiplier. Not to mention the fact that these were Marines, the best their country had to offer, which meant they were very good indeed.

Second Lieutenant Rick Castle had been on the verge of tossing his cookies before the choppers landed (he would never have lived that down) but now with hot lead searing the air around him, an almost supernatural calm settled over him. He had two civilians to rescue and both were supposed to be held in the rambling structure in front of him. There were two doors, one on each end of the building. He sent one squad to the left and led the other squad toward the rightmost door.

When they were just paces from the door, three guerrillas burst out firing and went down in a hail of bullets. Rick leapt over the bodies and found himself in a corridor that ran the length of the building. Several rooms opened into each side of the corridor and he waved Sergeant Ropp and his squad to clear the left-side rooms. At the far end of the corridor, he could see his men leading a disheveled looking woman out of one room. That would be the kidnapped Legal Attaché. Half of his mission accomplished.

Now he had to find and rescue a ten-tear old girl. As he stepped to the first door, he heard the most piercing scream of pure terror from inside. That's got to be her! He kicked the door in and charged through without conscious thought. There were five of the guerrillas in the room, clustered around a table that held the tiny body of the girl he was looking for. She was naked and covered in blood. A large puddle of blood had collected on the table between her legs, and was dripping steadily onto the floor. The five animals had blood on their hands and clothing.. Rick fired by pure reflex, a three-shot burst right on the bridge of each subject's nose, killing them instantly. He stepped carefully across the gore-slicked floor and looked down at the child's face. Damn, she's still alive! He looked into the most amazing hazel eyes he had ever seen. "I've got to get you out of here," he said as he searched for something to cover her

. One of his men found a filthy blanket and that would have to do. He rushed back to her and something died within him as he saw her eyes glaze over and her head loll to one side. "NOOO," he screamed, and fell to his knees in the gore, the agony of his failure washing over him like a tidal wave. "She's dead, you bastards! You killed her.

Tampa Sunday October 9 Kate Beckett was awakened by some unknown stimulus. Her surroundings were unfamiliar, leaving her a little disoriented until her memory caught up with her senses and she realized she was in Rick's guest room. She stretched luxuriantly, but couldn't escape a nagging sense of incompleteness.

The bed was sinfully comfortable, but something was missing. Then she realized. It was warmth, not the solitary warmth that the bedding captured from her own body, but the warmth of two critical masses compressed in space, the warmth she had felt for the first time last night as they cuddled on his couch. How she knew this in spite of her previous lack of experience was a mystery, a problem for later, her mind told her.

The problem for now was a mild headache that seemed to have settled in behind her eyes; caffeine, she needed caffeine. She stretched and managed to hook a finger under her watch so she could bring it close to her face, sleep-blurred eyes straining to interpret the pattern glowing green dots. 03:30, she deciphered, way too early to get up. But the headache was insistent, so she rolled out of bed and stretched to get her blood flowing.

Surely Rick would have the makings of a caffeinated beverage somewhere in his kitchen. Halfway down the stairs, Kate belatedly remembered the bathrobe at the foot of her bed, and she stopped to consider. Still early, Rick's probably not up, Okay—too far to go back. She slipped silently into the kitchen and spotted the K-cup rack that she remembered. It took only a few seconds to find an English Breakfast Tea and pop it into the brewer. A quick search found some sturdy mugs and she slipped one under the spout.

An unexpected sound caught her attention. Voices, so her natural curiosity drew her into the den. The sound seemed to be coming from the direction of Rick's bedroom, so she moved to the beginning of the hallway and paused.

The door to Rick's bedroom was open and no lights were on. The sound came again, only this time much louder, almost a shout, "Nooo!" Long and drawn out, but angry, not fearful.

Kate listened mystified. It was definitely Rick's voice, but whom was he talking to?

Then, "You bastards, you killed her!" Kate clicked into attack mode, and it was Special Agent Beckett who burst through the door, eyes scanning for intruders.

Her headlong charge faltered; there was no one in the room but Rick. The bed coverings were twisted and scattered, pillows flung to the far corners of the room. Rick was sitting in the middle of the bed, motionless, staring into the gloom.

A couple of quick steps carried her to the edge of the bed and she spoke softly, "Rick?" No answer. "Rick, wake up—Ow!" He flung her halfway across the room with a powerful sweep of his arm.

She landed on her feet, but moving backwards, so that the back of her legs hit the arm of a chair and she tumbled into its leather-upholstered embrace. A fighting-mad, hundred-pound spitfire launched herself back across the room. No man, not even Rick Castle, gets to manhandle Kate Beckett! She landed on the bed, next to him, her left hand reaching for his wrist as she went instinctively for an arm lock.

In an instant, she found herself pinned against the headboard by his broad back. She got her hands on his shoulders and tried to push him away. But the pressure only increased, and he called out urgently, "I've got to get you out of here."

What the hell is going on? What was he protecting her from?

"Rick, what's going on?" she implored desperately.

Then Rick's body went slack and he slumped to the side. This frightened her more than anything else that had happened. It took every ounce of strength, but she got him lying on his back, and she quickly checked him over, pulse, and breathing, but everything seemed normal. She started toward the bathroom to get a wet washcloth. Partway there, she heard a groan from the bed, and dashed back, climbing onto the bed and kneeling next to him just as his eyelids fluttered open.

The first thing that Rick's eyes beheld could hardly have been improved upon. Kate was leaning over him, her hair and clothing (what there was of it) adorably mussed. He levered himself up and took in the extreme disarray of the room, and particularly his bed.

Clearing his throat, he addressed Kate. "I don't know what we've been doing, but it sure looks like it was fun." 


	31. Chapter 31

**Post Tenebras Lux - After Darkness Light**

"Rick!" She smacked him on the chest.

"I'm sorry, I don't seem to remember anything about it. What happened? Did you give me a stroke or something?"

"Rick!" She smacked him again, to no apparent effect.

"Kate, please quit smacking me and tell me what happened."

She made an obvious effort to calm down and recounted the sequence of events, beginning when she entered the kitchen.

He drew a deep breath when she finished, and let it out explosively. He met her gaze. "Nightmare," he said simply.

"That was some nightmare!" Kate confirmed.

"Yeah, that one especially is usually pretty intense. I usually remember them afterwards, though. I wonder what happened tonight."

"You said 'that one.' Is this a regular occurrence?" Kate asked.

"Yeah, pretty much. I have quite a library of them,"

"The one tonight, it was a real situation wasn't it?" she asked gently.

"Yeah, they all are."

"Would it help to talk about it?"

"No."

"I'm here," she said simply.

"Okay, I'll think about it, but let me straighten up a bit first."

His first destination was his closet, where he found an emerald green silk bathrobe his sister had left behind from one of her visits and returned to the bedroom, where he offered it to Kate.

"Thank you. You're always the perfect gentleman."

"More's the pity."

"Rick."

He gathered up the scattered bedclothes and left to take them to the laundry room. When he returned, he discovered that Kate had found the linen closet and was pulling out a light gray set of sheets.

"Are these okay?"

"Sure." He joined her in the bedroom, and she insisted on helping him remake his bed.

"I'm going to jump in the shower and rinse off. If I decide to talk about it it's going to take a while, so you might want to get comfortable"

Kate piled some pillows against the headboard and leaned back comfortably

Rick returned after a few minutes, looking much better than when he left for the shower, although still somber. He made his own pile of pillows and settled himself beside her. When he didn't speak for several minutes, Kate decided to give him a gentle nudge, by scooting over until their shoulders and hips touched. He stole a glance at her and an embryonic smile washed across his face.

Kate took his smile as permission to take his hand and lace their fingers together. He cleared his throat and looked deeply into the hazel eyes that seemed so familiar. "Are you sure you're up for this? It's pretty horrible and there's no way I can sugarcoat it."

"Rick, I want our relationship to be between equals, 50-50." She paused and he nodded for her to continue. "You've been there for me, and now I need to be there for you. Nothing you can tell me will change the way I feel about you."

"The nightmare was about a mission. It was actually the first mission I ever led, right out of Ranger school." He chuckled without humor, "I was so scared I almost hurled in the helicopter on the way to the target. I was a total wreck."

"Until the bullets started flying." Kate commented, she knew this man that well at least.

"Yeah, anyway the mission was to make a clandestine entry into E-Uh a foreign country and rescue two hostages, one of which was an American diplomat.

That sounds a lot like my story. Kinda creepy actually. Kate gave his hand a light squeeze of encouragement.

We managed to land the choppers before the bad guys could react. Then all hell burst loose and bullets were flying like snowflakes in a blizzard. I led part of my platoon into the main building looking for the hostages."

Definitely creepy and getting more so by the second, Kate felt her stomach churn as the long suppressed memories threatened to flood back into her consciousness. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, and a shudder wracked her slight frame.

"Are you okay?" Rick asked.

"Yes …No, did you get the hostages out?"

"Yes, but in the nightmare I was too late and the little girl died."

"Little girl?" Kate choked out past the armadillo size lump in her throat.

Rick was looking more concerned, but he answered her question.

"The second hostage was a little girl about ten or so."

Omigod, I'm going to be sick, I want him to stop, but I can't, I told him I'd be there for him, I have to keep my word…Please God don't make me live through this again."

"They tortured her Kate, did the most bestial, disgusting things to her… for how long I don't know. When I kicked the door down, there were five of the men with her, and they were covered in blood." A sob escaped him, "The fucking motherless bastards were covered with her blood. How could anyone hurt a child that way?"

Kate fought against her natural and urgent desire to backpedal and escape the horror but she was compelled to face the implications of Rick's story. It can't be. He died, I saw him fall, and it's got to be. I've got to know. I need to know. I want to know. She spun around to kneel on the bed facing him. Trembling and sobbing she asked, "Rick, does the phrase 'paladin 6' mean anything to you?"

"How…how do…how do you know my call sign? Then his eyes shimmered and a smile like sunrise spread across his face. "I felt it when I first looked into your eyes. Knew there was something important that bound us. It was you, wasn't it? That little girl?" And then he reached a shaking hand to touch her cheek and she threw herself into his arms.

Kate felt an explosion of goose bumps, a burst of feeling so powerful that light danced in front of her eyes. Her sense of what was possible - what was real - even of her destiny - was being turned inside out and stood on its head. She could analyze highly complex and dangerous situations in an instant, but couldn't begin to wrap her mind around all the implications of this miracle and its impact on her future.

Her pulse thundered in her ears, her chest heaved with the effort of breathing, and she trembled violently with an overload of emotion. For twenty-seven years she had cherished the memory of her paladin, of how safe and protected she had felt in his arms, and not only was her paladin alive, but he was the man kneeling before her. "It was me Rick, it was me, the girl was me. You saved me Rick. You're my paladin."

Rick pulled her tight against his chest. Her head came to rest on his shoulder and her right hand grabbed a fistful of his t-shirt, perhaps to prevent him from escaping. "I tried to find out about you…after the rescue, but no one would tell me anything." he murmured.

"Just hold me…please," she whispered. "No talk, just hold me."

They never knew how long they knelt there, holding each other until their muscles cramped and burned. Finally, they moved back to lying propped up on the pillows.

Rick's trademark cocky grin was noticeably absent. Instead she almost laughed in celebration of the combination of awe and sheer joy that blazed from his eyes. She was sure that it must be a perfect reflection of her own expression.

Kate's compass had always pointed back to those tragic events that defined her life and constrained her future. Now, in the space of a few minutes she was untethered, disoriented, adrift, lost. But the look in Rick's eyes said that was a lie. She had found true north. She was supremely frightened and liberated all at the same time.

"I thought you were dead. I saw you get hit and fall."

The grin returned, "My vest stopped the bullet, but the impact knocked me off the boarding step. Fortunately we weren't very high and I landed in some brush that broke my fall. I made it into the jungle, and they came after me. After I killed the sixth one, they must have decided that they didn't want me all that bad.

The most dangerous part of the whole mission was sneaking back into the U.S. Embassy after dark. Almost got my head blown off."

"There wasn't a single day after that, when I didn't fantasize about my paladin…"

"Wait," the grin kicked up a notch, "You fantasized about me?"

Kate felt the hot burn of a full-on blush. "I think every girl dreams of a white knight, and get your mind out of the gutter; I didn't mean it like that."

"Right."

"Did you think about me?"

"A ten-year old girl? Eeew, that's just sick."

"Rick!"

"Uh yes, I thought about you. You see, I made a vow that day"

"A vow, really."

"Yes, a vow that no one would ever harm a woman in my presence without paying the price. Up till now I've kept that vow."

Their mutual yawns reminded them that it was still night, and neither had enjoyed what might be called a full night's sleep.

"I think we need to call it a night while we still can," Rick suggested.

"Yeah," Kate sat up and started to slide off the bed, until Rick placed his hand over hers. She met his gaze with a curious combination of elation and consternation.

"Stay…Please?" was all he said.

"I…uh...Okay, if you promise me one thing."

"What's that?" he asked gently, half suspecting what she was going to ask.

"Promise me you won't pressure me to have sex."

He laughed, and Kate looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Kate, I don't ever intend to have sex with you. You're not that kind of girl."

Her heart seemed to stop and the room spun around her. She snatched her hand from under his, but he captured it right back, and pulled her to him. "On the other hand, someday soon, when the time is right; I have every intention of making wild, crazy, passionate love to you, and I promise you'll never forget it."

Kate struggled to recover her equilibrium, "That's not exactly what I meant; there's something else I need to tell you."

His countenance fell and she reached out quickly to reassure him. "Rick I can't have sex."

"What?" He asked, confusion banishing his smile.

"What they did to me tore me up inside." An errant tear trailed down her cheek. "The doctors said that because of the damage, sex would be too painful."

"Damn," he growled and his eyes went hard.

"You deserve a whole woman Rick; I understand if you don't want me now."

His gaze, turned hot and angry, "Kate Beckett don't ever presume to tell me what I want and what I don't want."

"You mean…?

"Yes, I want you. I know where lady parts rank in the grand scheme of things: more than nothing and considerably less than everything."

"You mean…?"

"I. Want. You. Just the way you are. You are amazing, incredible, and extraordinary and I can't imagine a future without you."

"Are you proposing? She grinned, half hoping he'd say yes.

"No not yet, but someday."

"Okay, there's something else…"

"Let me guess, no children."

"How'd you…"

"Logical conclusion, and before you ask, that doesn't change anything either, and I'm not ready to admit defeat just yet."

"But the doctors said…"

"Kate I have hundreds of the best doctors in the world working for me, it ain't over till they say it's over. There are things going on at Orion that the world can't even imagine yet. I promise you that if it can be done we will do it, and I will personally place your son or daughter in your arms."

Her tears were flowing freely, but they were good tears, tears of joy and hope and confidence in her paladin. He had saved her life and just maybe he could give her back what had been taken from her. Rick stood and walked to the wall panel to turn off the lights. He heard Kate stir in the bed, and turned back just in time to see her lie back and pull the covers up to her chin. There was a new spot of color lying on the comforter. Emerald green, to be precise. Emerald green silk, to be even more precise.

Oh crap, she took the robe off. Oh well, what's one microscopically thin layer of incredibly soft, sensuous fabric, anyway? Maybe life or death, he concluded, but his traitor feet carried him to the unoccupied side of the bed anyway, and the adorable, shy smile she greeted him with compelled him to slide beneath the covers.

He had retained enough control to stop his movement well short of the notional center of the bed, blessing his decorator for insisting on a king-size bed for this space. Kate seemed mildly annoyed at the distance between them, but she smiled and wished him a good night.

"Good night, Kate."


	32. Chapter 32

Post Tenebras Lux - After Darkness Light

Tampa Sunday Morning October 9

Kate Beckett woke to the first harbingers of a new day, the stealthy little beams of light that crept around shutters and shades and slowly turned black to gray. Her bed seemed much warmer than it had earlier, and she luxuriated in the feeling. It also felt considerably firmer, and she wondered what had happened to the feathers.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she blearily surveyed her surroundings, most immediately, the covering of her pillow. She could have sworn that when she had gone to bed last night the pillowcases had been as soft as a cloud and swathed in pale gray high count cotton fabric; this was more of a medium-gray jersey knit, comfortable, but a little too firm to be a pillow.

She raised her head to get a better look, and was surprised to discover letters in a contrasting burgundy running across the fabric—a message of some sort. She marshaled her sleep-bedeviled powers of observation and analysis to decipher the message. It came slowly, but with great clarity: Tar Heel by Birth, Marine by Choice.

Oh, Sweet Mother of God, I'm in bed cuddling with Rick. How did that happen? The last thing she remembered, they were lying at least two feet apart as they drifted off to sleep. Apparently, they had sought out each other in the midst of sleep, finding the intimacy she craved even though she had yet to acknowledge her desire to Rick.

She almost succumbed to her old fears, but the first move to escape was squelched by the man beneath her. His left hand on her hip tightened, pulling her into him as if physically trying to fuse their bodies together.

It was his right hand however, that almost sent her over the edge. It started at her waist and quickly traveled up her back underneath her tank top, bunching the fabric up as it advanced. The damnable hand finally stopped, high up between her shoulder blades, having left a lingering trail of fiery sensation behind. Kate exerted every ounce of willpower she had left to avoid any further movement. Who knows where those demon hands would go next?

"Rick," she hissed.

"Hmmmm?"

"Rick, wake up!"

"Huh…What?" His eyes opened and he tried to sit up, but fell back when he realized that Kate was sprawled across his chest and abdomen. "Decided to have your wicked way with me, huh, Sparrow Hawk?"  
"This is all your fault," she groaned.

"How is it my fault? You're on top."

"Aaarghh, you man, you!" But he did have a point.

"Not to mention the fact that you don't seem to be trying very hard to escape."

Oh, right. "You're holding me too tight, and you've got your hand up under my top."

"Okay." He relaxed the pressure from his left hand and ran his right hand back down to her waist, dragging the lacy tank top back into place as he went. He waited maybe thirty seconds, and when no escape attempt materialized, bent down and placed a tender kiss on top of her hair. "You're still here."

"I like it here," she whispered.

"Me too."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything but goodbye."

She laughed. "No, not that, you may never get rid of me."

"What, then?"

"I think I'm falling for you." She tilted her head up so she could meet his gaze. The same soulful blue eyes which had so frightened her on Friday were now drawing her in with irresistible power, drawing her into a love that she now believed would never fail, that would meet her every need, that would lift her to heights that she could not imagine. Remind me, she mused. Why is it that I'm fighting this?

He grinned. "I fell for you ages ago"

"Ages?"

"Okay, four days ago"

"So, what's the next step?"

"Whatever you want, sweetheart."

"Did you just call me sweetheart?"

"I didn't think baby suited your kick-ass federal agent persona."

"You ever call me baby, and I'll shoot you in your good leg."

"Duly noted. How about 'Babe'

Only if I've had a couple of mojitos."

I have an idea. How about a short drive, culminating in the most amazing brunch in central Florida?"

"Okay," she grinned wickedly, "but only on one condition."

"What's that?" he asked with a minor amount of hesitation. Her naughty grin was worrying him a little.

"We take the Ferrari."

"Okay."

"What's the dress code? I didn't bring a huge variety of outfits."

"Resort casual will work. They don't allow denim in any form."

"Classy place, huh?"

"Of course, where else would I take my classy lady?"

Kate rolled her eyes, "Right. Resort casual I can handle. Give me thirty minutes?" She slid off him and turned her back before reaching for the robe and slipping it on. Leaving the room, she threw him a quick smile over her shoulder.

Rick waited a few seconds to give Kate time to reach the stairs, and then made a mad dash for his bathroom.

He didn't even bother to remove his clothing, but piled into the shower and turned the cold-water tap full on.

"Ow…ooh… pain is just weakness leaving the body…ohhh… ahhh, dang that's cold." The net effect of cold water and near-incandescent skin temperature was an exquisite torture that left him panting, and he sank against the wall until he started to shiver. He climbed out, stripped off his soaked clothes and toweled briskly. The cold shower technique is definitely overrated, he concluded. When the shivering finally stopped, he shaved and headed to his closet to get dressed.

Kate made her way down the stairs twenty-five minutes later. Rick was waiting in the den, and stood as she approached, taking in everything about her. An olive green leopard-print chiffon dress that fell just above the knee accentuated her curves while remaining tasteful and elegant.

Rick's brain was suddenly flooded with endorphins, overwhelming most high-level mental processes.

"Rick! Quit drooling and come help me with my shoes." She brandished the pair of gold wedge-sandals that she was carrying.

"Not drooling!"

"Oh yeah? What would you call it, then?"  
"Worshipping!"

She tugged him over to her, and he offered an arm to lean on as she reached down to slip on the sandals. She kept her hand on his arm as they descended the stairs and walked into the garage.

He opened the garage door, and then ushered Kate to the driver's side door of the Ferrari. She looked a bit puzzled until he lifted her right hand to waist level and gently but firmly pressed the Ferrari key into her palm. The look on her face was one he would always remember, and one he devoutly wished he could see every day for the rest of his life.

"You're going to let me drive the Ferrari?"

At his nod, she threw her arms around his neck and stood on tiptoe to place a quick kiss on his cheek. When she released him, he reached down and opened the door, and she slid into the seat, lifting her legs over the doorsill. "Let me help you get adjusted, okay? I don't think my settings work for you."

She nodded gratefully and watched intently as he adjusted pedals and the steering wheel to exactly the right positions. He explained the operation of the paddle shifters and the rest of the normal complement of gages and switches.

"Ready to roll?" he asked, and she nodded emphatically. "All right, fire 'er up."

The engine fired instantly with the throaty burble only a V8 can manage, and she blipped the throttle once, just for the sheer joy of it. Rick settled into his seat, fastened his seatbelt, and turned to Kate to instruct her to be careful backing up; but he froze, because she was giving him a coy smile, overflowing with mischief.

Kate buried the throttle and the red projectile exploded out of the garage backwards. Kate's arms and legs moved like quicksilver, and the car snapped into a perfect 180-degree spin, reversing direction and maintaining momentum at the same time. She deftly stopped the spin and again buried the throttle; roaring off down the road in a fragrant cloud of Pirelli's finest.

Rick let out a whoop of appreciation.

Kate stole a quick glance at him, and the incredible grin he was wearing made her heart flutter. He was somehow managing to convey adoration, approval, admiration, pride, and even a little lust in one magnificent grin.

She braked for a traffic light, and asked somewhat sheepishly "By the way, where are we going?"

"Sarasota. The route is up to you."

Okay." She drove on at a somewhat more politically correct rate of speed. If sex is better than this, Rick's doctors better get busy."!

"Kate?"

"Yes."

"Where'd you learn to do bootlegger turns?"

"At the Bureau, Pursuit Driving training."

"And you graduated with honors, right?"

"Something like that. There's a national competition that's held every year involving law enforcement from all over the country."  
"Let me guess, you win every year."

"I wish. I've only won twice, but I've always finished in the top five."

"So many layers to the Beckett onion."

Following Rick's directions, they arrived at Marina Jack and turned the prancing horse over to the valet. The young man holding the keys fumbled them when Kate slipped out of the car, giving him a glimpse of legs that seemed to go on forever. Rick chuckled softly. If he weren't made of sterner stuff, he would probably lose fine motor control at the sight of her legs himself.

Kate met him at the front of the car and they walked to the entrance holding hands. Inside the lobby, Rick pointed to an elevator and they rode to the second floor.

The sight which greeted them as they exited the elevator was spectacular. The walls were glass from floor to ceiling, and they were arranged so that everyone had a view of the bay and the gulf beyond. The cloudless azure sky met the turquoise of the gulf in a way that only a truly great artist could capture convincingly. There was a light chop on the water and the sunlight reflecting off a million tiny facets cast a strangely soothing light show on the interior of the dining room.

Even though it was three quarters full, the dining room was strangely muted, almost reverent. Rick seemed to read her mind. He leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "Active noise cancellation."

Wow, classy place, indeed!

"Rick Castle, you old pirate, I haven't seen you in a while." Rick and Kate turned to see the owner of the voice striding towards them.

Kate cataloged him instantly. Taller and lankier than Rick, silver gray hair, killer tan, linen suit with a deep purple shirt. From the lines in his face, she would wager he was looking at the north side of sixty, but obviously in great physical condition. He and Rick shared a man hug, and the stranger turned toward her with a frankly admiring glance that was like everything else here—classy and not the least bit creepy. He offered his hand, and when she reciprocated, he bowed and placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, saying, "Jack Aberle at your service, ma'am".

Kate fought the urge to curtsy, instead saying, "Kate Beckett, a pleasure to meet you, Jack."

Jack released her hand and turned back to Rick. "What's the special occasion, my friend?"

"No specia…"

"Rick, you've been coming here for six years and not once have you brought a lady friend. I was starting feel insecure."

"Okay, okay Jack, if you must know," he reached down and reclaimed Kate's hand, "a week ago, a goddess walked into my life, and today is the first opportunity I've had to enjoy a Sunday brunch in her company, so where else would I go?"

Kate blushed and looked up at Rick, her eyes asking, Goddess? He just squeezed her hand with a quirk of a smile and nodded minutely.

Jack seemed placated. "Well, in that case, let me show you to your table." They followed him to a small table with the best view. Kate noticed the nudges and whispers among the other diners: "That's Jack," and "Why do they get the best table?" and "What makes them special?" After seating Kate, Jack offered them menus and excused himself. A waiter materialized at their table bearing a tray with two loaded champagne flutes. "Roederer Cristal Mimosa, Mr. Castle."

"Thank you, George." Rick lifted the flutes from the tray, placing one in front of Kate. "If you'd prefer something other than a mimosa…?"

Kate picked up her flute and smiled. "I love mimosas, this will be lovely." She tilted the flute slightly to catch the light, captivated by the deep crimson color, so unlike the usual orange.

"This is made from the juice of Tarocco blood oranges, the sweetest and most flavorful of all."

Kate sipped her drink. "Oh, my, that is delicious." She paused thoughtfully, her brow furrowed.

Rick noticed the sudden change in vibe. "What is it, Kate?" He was pretty sure what she was going to say, and he just hoped he didn't mess it up.

"Rick, you're spoiling me! Everything this weekend has been so perfect and magical, but I don't deserve that. I don't deserve to be treated like a …"

"Goddess?" he interjected with a hint of a smile.

"Actually, I was going to say princess, but goddess will work. Either way I feel guilty, like I'm taking advantage of you!"

She looked at him, the corner of her eyebrow quirking up in anticipation but he took a healthy sip of his drink to gain time to order his thoughts. Happily, the waiter approached, allowing Rick to suggest, "Let's order. Then we'll talk while we're waiting."

"Okay, what would you recommend?"

"You look like a French toast girl to me, right?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then you should definitely try the Oatmeal Crusted French Toast, but I warn you it's so sinfully good that it'll probably cost you at least six rosaries next week when you go to confession."

She chuckled. "You talked me into it." She looked up to meet George's gaze, but he just nodded; he already had her order.

Rick added, "I'll have the Blue Crab Eggs Benedict."

"Very good, sir. Would you or the lady care for coffee?"

Rick checked with Kate, who nodded. "Yes, two coffees. Does Jack still keep his private stash of Jamaica Blue Mountain hidden behind the bar?"

"I believe so, sir. I'll check."

"Thank you, George."

"See what I mean?" Kate grabbed the initiative. "You're not content to just buy me a cup of coffee; you have to raid the owner's personal coffee supply."

"Kate, sweetheart, I know you don't care about my money."

She nodded vigorously in reply.

"Believe me, I've been the target of plenty of women who only saw a meal ticket, or even worse, an alimony check. That wasn't fair."

She nodded in understanding.

"But, it's also not fair to hold my money against me."

Kate started to speak, but Rick shook his head. "Let me finish, please."

She nodded and reached across, covering his hand with hers.

"Someday, we'll have to have 'the money talk,' but for now I'm going to give you enough of a preview to see where I'm coming from, and then I'll hear you out, and we'll figure out how to make it work. Okay?"

"Okay."

"First, my share of the Institute's profit last year was just short of five hundred million dollars." Kate gave a small gasp; her previous impression of Rick's wealth just got revised upward, way upward.

"Of that, around $250 million was reinvested in the Institute," he continued. "You'll find out why when we go to the Keys. The other $250 million went to charity. I have some personal investments that my brother-in-law manages for me. I live on that and my salary from the university.

"Second, to oversimplify, I basically group people into four categories: family, friends, foes, and everyone else. Foes are easy. They get neutralized. Everyone else is a live and let live thing. If you don't bother me, I won't bother you.

Friends are people I've taken a personal interest in for some reason. Within reason, I will do anything I can to help and protect them, and I sometimes give them gifts, simply because I like to. And family? There's no limits to what I would do for anyone I consider family, even give my life if necessary. They get the absolute best I can provide in every way possible.

"Kate, you are family—actually, you are more than family. I need to create another category just for you. Anyhow, my goal in life is to see you smile, and to that end, I dedicate everything I am and everything I have, physically, emotionally, materially, whatever."

Kate fought back the tears that threatened to flow. "Thank you – I don't – just thank you."

"I wasn't really finished yet."

"Oh."

"One of the things that I love about you is that you have integrity; you can be won, but you can't be bought. So, please understand that I'm not trying to buy your affection by spoiling you. I'm not trying to win you with material things. I'm trying to win you by learning your needs and desires and helping to fulfill them, by pushing you to be the best Kate Beckett you can possibly be, by being there when you need me and giving you space when you want it.

"And one last thing. If I knew that my wealth was going to come between us, I would walk away from it in a second and never look back."

It was fortunate that George arrived with their coffee at that point, because it gave Kate a chance to marshal her thoughts.

"Rick, it just seems so one-sided. You do all those things for me, but I give you nothing."

"May I rebut your last argument, Counselor?"

"Please."

"Let me put things in perspective. This morning was the first time in ten years that I woke up with the woman I love in my arms, and the fact that you were there, and that you trusted me enough to be there, is worth more than I can possibly express. When I touch you, I feel like I've just been given the deed to the cosmos."

George arrived with their food, and they maintained hand and eye contact while he placed the dishes and arranged the silverware to his satisfaction.

"Rick, consider my argument thoroughly rebutted. You sure have a way with words when you put your mind to it."

"It's easy when you have a personal goddess to inspire you.

"About this goddess thing, did you have any particular goddess in mind?"

"Actually, yes."

"You going to share with the class?"

"Guess."

"Aphrodite?"

"Aaahhh, the goddess of love herself. Well, you certainly get points for self-confidence, but no, not Aphrodite."

"Wait, why not?"

"Aphrodite was basically just a high-society slut. She slept around something fierce."

"Oh, okay. Athena, then?"

"Close, but no. Actually, I kind of like Athena. She's smart, independent, and authoritative, but more the type of woman I'd want to share a glass of Chateauneuf-du-Pape with at a gallery opening than a cup of hot chocolate on a bearskin rug in front of the fireplace on a cold winter night.

"So you have a goddess who prefers to cavort on a bear skin rug? Who would that be?"  
"Other than you?" Kate smacked his hand playfully.

"Why, Diana, of course, the goddess of the hunt."

It's amazing how well he knows me. I really would prefer cavorting to going to a gallery opening. In fact that whole fireplace, bearskin rug, winter night thing sounds delicious.

"Rick, I have a suggestion for how you could 'not' spoil me."  
"I'm all ears, sweetheart."

"How about we try out the cavorting, bearskin, fireplace, cold winter night thing?"

"Sounds good to me. Do you have a location in mind?"

"A ski resort, maybe?"

"My sister and her husband have a chalet in Aspen; she's always after me to use it."

"Perfect!"

They finished their meal, Kate finding it every bit as sinful as Rick had predicted.

When the Ferrari was brought up, Rick motioned Kate to the driver's seat, which earned him another special smile.

As they headed back north toward Tampa, Kate glanced at him and said, "Hey, I just realized that they didn't present us a check, and I didn't see you pay for the meal."

"Well, I…"

"You own it, don't you?" she demanded.

"Well…no, not really."

"What does that mean?"

"Jack was my company first-sergeant in Kosovo. Between him, and a couple of the gunnery sergeants, they taught me how to be a Marine, and how to be a Marine officer. When Jack retired, he told me he had always wanted to own a marina. This property was available, but was way out of his price range. So I…kind of…uh…loaned him the money, and he bought the place and fixed it up to what you see today."  
"So at one time, you could technically say I was part owner, but he paid me back a while ago, so I'm not involved anymore. I didn't charge him any interest, so he insists on all meals being complimentary, and he keeps a special stash of coffee for me when I come."

"I get it," she nodded. "Family!"

"Yep."

"You do this a lot?"

"Do what, play venture capitalist?"

"Yeah."

"You know what they say, 'Money is like manure, it's no good unless you spread it around' "

Kate smiled and nodded. "Hello Dolly."

"That is so hot."

"You didn't answer my question."

"Well, yeah I've done it a few times."

"A few?"

"A lot?"

"Is it true that you never took a woman there?"

"I took women there lots of times. Jack said 'lady friend' not 'woman.'"

"So who…?"

"My sister, Jordan, Vienna a couple of times,"

Kate pulled the Ferrari into Rick's garage much more sedately than when they left. As they got out, she reluctantly returned the keys to Rick. "What's the plan for the rest of the day?" she asked.


	33. Chapter 33

"I don't know, what would you like to do?" Rick asked as they entered the garage

"I just want to be with you. I don't mind fancy and elaborate sometimes, but mostly I just want to be together. It's like you said earlier, this weekend is the first time I've been with the man I adore. The rest is just details."

"Well, how would you like to help me with my sister's spice cabinet?"

"I'd love to. What do you want me to do?

"First, we need to change."

She grinned at him and challenged, "Race you back!" They both lunged for the stairs, laughing and shoulder-checking each other all the way up to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Rick slung her over his shoulder, and bore her kicking and squealing past the stairs and towards the hallway leading to his bedroom.

"Put me down," she squealed in the midst of near hysterical giggling. "This is kidnapping! If you don't put me down, I'll have to arrest you!"

s"Really?" He gave her a skeptical grin. "I don't see any backup."

The next thing he knew he was on his knees as Kate's fingers found the pain center on the inside of his elbow and squeezed. Hard. The pain blossomed like a supernova. His arm went limp and the woman slid off his shoulder, coming to rest against the wall at the foot of the stairs.

"Ow! That hurt!" He gave her an appraising glance.

"I don't care if you're bigger and stronger than me; I could still take you, Castle!"

"I sincerely hope so, Sparrow Hawk."

"You're impossible!" The words were accompanied by her trademark glare, but Rick didn't seem intimidated.

"Don't forget incorrigible, I always loved that word."

"Yeah, that too," she allowed. "If you come here, I'll show you what I can do." She licked her lips, sending an unmistakable message.

Rick closed the gap quickly, stopping about six inches away to gage her reaction. Her eyes were closed, and her head tilted back for the kiss. Just as their lips touched, she spun out of his grasp and sprang up the stairs. He tried to snare an ankle but the flashing legs eluded him.

As she disappeared around the corner, she called out, "Loser does dinner!"

He chuckled ruefully. Damn, she did it to me again. Kick-ass, and sneaky, too. God, I love this woman!

When Rick returned to his shop, he found Kate sitting in demure nonchalance on one of the shop stools dressed in an oversized FBI t-shirt and yoga shorts.

She smiled innocently as he entered. "I win."

"You cheated," he accused.

"I didn't cheat. It was a legitimate ruse of war."

"War, huh? I'll remember that. "

"Okay, what do you want me to do?"

He grinned. "So many things…where should I start?"

"Rick, Focus! Sister. Christmas. Spice thingy. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah, that." He picked up one of the rough-sawn boards. "The first thing we have to do is get one face of each board flat and smooth. We do that using a series of hand-planes, starting with this one."

He held up a scrub plane. "This is for removing material quickly, but it doesn't leavea finished surface, so we'll have to follow up with a couple of other planes. If you come over here, I'll show you how it's done."

Three hours later, Rick had a stack of surfaced boards and a tired but happy Kate.

"5:30," he said brushing shavings from his clothing. "Supper time, and since I lost, I have to cook, so let's head on upstairs."

Kate gave him a quick hug. "I enjoyed that Rick. It's kind of like yoga, strenuous and relaxing at the same time."

"I've never heard it described that way, but it is a good comparison."

"So what are you cooking for me?" she queried as they entered the kitchen.

"How about cheese-steaks?" he answered remembering the thin-sliced prime rib Maria left on Saturday.

"Oh yes, Philly Cheesesteaks are one of my favorite foods. You're racking up a lot of points today, Mister Castle."

Rick quickly prepared the sandwiches, and they sat at the island bar, eating silently, neither wanting to raise the question that was on both their minds—stay or go?

Kate broke the silence. "Rick, I'm going to pack my stuff and head on home."

She could tell he was disappointed, but he nodded. "This weekend has been so wonderful," she continued, "and magical, and…well, everything. I need some time to process it all."

"I understand. Watching you drive away Rick be hard, real hard; I already feel like my heart is being ripped out."

"I know, but we'll get together next week, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'm going upstairs now to pack; I'll be down in a few minutes."

Fifteen minutes later, she was back. "Walk me to my car?"

"Of course." He took her hand and they walked down the stairs and out to the M3. Kate put her stuff in the back, and Rick pulled her in for a hug.

"Thank you for the most wonderful weekend ever," she whispered."

And she was gone; the taillights of the M3 disappeared, obscured by his neighbor's house as she headed north.

Kate drove until her nerves settled a bit. It bothered her that she hadn't felt this bad (not even close) since law school. She was a strong, independent woman wasn't she? She didn't need a man to make her happy did she? She snatched up her phone and hit speed dial number 1. 


	34. Chapter 34

And she was gone; the taillights of the M3 disappeared, quickly obscured by his neighbor's house as she headed north. Kate drove until her nerves settled a bit. It bothered her that she hadn't felt this bad (not even close) since law school. She was a strong, independent woman wasn't she? She didn't need a man to make her happy did she? She snatched up her phone and hit speed dial number 1.

"Kate Gavilan Beckett," Kate knew she was in trouble when Hayley used her full name, "Where the hell have you been?"

"You know I was with Rick…"

"What do you mean 'was', he didn't hurt you did he, because if he did I'll…."

"No he didn't hurt me, he was the perfect gentleman all weekend, damn him."

'We need to talk in person, where are you?"

"I'm on my way home, be there in 15."

"Okay, my two boyfriends and I will meet you there."

"Two boyfriends…? Hayley!"

"Yeah, you remember Ben and Jerry don't you?"

"Oh. Yeah I remember."

Twenty minutes later, Kate opened the door to her apartment and Hayley swept in, waving a carton of Chunky Monkey. Kate grabbed two spoons from the kitchen and joined her friend on the couch. "All right girl, spill." Hayley demanded.

"What do you want to know?"

"Oh, so that's how it is, you're going to make me beat it out of you. The number one question of the hour is - Did you sleep with him?"

"That depends on what you mean by sleep. If you mean 'have sex' then no. If you mean share a bed and have dreams and snore, then yes."

"You shared a bed with him? You've got to be an alien clone, where is the real Kate?"

"Very funny, it was amazing, I've never felt so alive."

"And Rick behaved himself?"

"Totally, I mean a couple of times I practically threw myself at him and he just took it in stride and kept on being kind and gentle and loving. The man is not human!"

Hayley pondered for a second, "Kate, I think you're sending mixed messages and expecting Rick to pick his way through the minefield you create. On one hand you send the message that you're broken and not ready for the next step. On the other hand you send the 'take me I'm yours' message. Men can only handle one message at a time, otherwise they get confused. To some men 'No' means step up the pressure. To other men, and I would put Rick in this category, 'No' means no. You're not saying yes or no, you're saying 'maybe not' one minute and 'maybe so' the next. Add in the fact that Rick would cut his right arm off if it hurt you, and you have one seriously confused and frustrated man. The love in his eyes when he looks at you makes me get all weak in the knees, and that's just the backscatter, it's not even directed at me."

"You're right Hayley, I've not really been fair to him, and he deserves my best. You know how we've been wondering why we felt a connection when we first met?" Hayley nodded. "Well, we figured it out."

"And?"

"My paladin, the marine who rescued me from the kidnappers, was Rick."

Hayley's eyes went wide, "Are you serious?" she received an emphatic confirmatory nod, "Girl, this is a message from the universe, this is divine intervention, this is fate, this is destiny."

"So what should I do?"

"If it was me, I'd drive back over there, kiss him until he's incoherent, throw him down and have my wicked way with him. I'm pretty sure you'll settle for something less extreme though."

"What if I text him?"

"Better than nothing, not much better mind you, but it won't hurt anything" Kate retrieved her phone from the coffee table and busied herself for a few seconds.

"There," she pressed send and placed the phone back on the table and used her spoon to duel with Hayley for the last bit of Vermonty goodness.

"What did you say?" Hayley questioned.

"Just that I miss him. So tell me about your date with Javier, did you sleep with him?"

"Kate!, of course not, how could you even think such a thing?"

"Well, that's the first question you asked me!"

"It was great, we went to the marina and got a boat, then we went about ten miles out into the gulf to an island. The island was deserted, but there was a Tiki hut kind of thing with a rope hammock, a picnic table and a grill like they have in campgrounds."

"So what did you do?"

"Swam, built some amazing sand castles, cuddled in the hammock and talked, collected shells, even fished a little bit. Then, right before sundown, Javier built a fire in the grill, and pulled some Kobe beef kabobs out of the cooler he brought and cooked them on the grill. He brought a bottle of red wine I've never heard of - Zinfandel, I think."

"I've never heard of it either, was it good?"

"Soooo good. So we sat and ate, drank the wine and watched the sunset, and then cleaned up, got in the boat and came home."

Kate's phone chimed an incoming text. Picking up her phone, she read the message - Miss you too. Her thumbs flicked back and forth composing another message - I hope you're not too lonely in that huge bed of yours.

This time the answer came in less than a minute - Not in bed. Sleeping on the deck. Never sleep alone in that bed again.

Kate passed the phone to Hayley, her vision bleary. Hayley read the message and shivered, that kind of love was almost scary, and she felt like she was beginning to understand some of Kate's conflicting emotions. "Kate, the feelings Rick has for you are so deep and so intense they can't be thwarted for very long. No man has that much self-control."

"I know, so what do I do?"

"You feel the same about him, right?"

"Yes, but I've always thought I was strong and independent, and it scares me how much he affects me."

"Kate, 'strong and independent' doesn't mean alone and isolated, it means that you make your own choices; that you choose to be open and vulnerable to Rick because you want to, because it makes you happy. If you weren't strong and independent Rick wouldn't have been attracted to you, he wants a partner, not a plaything."

Kate composed another message. "Is your bed in the Keys as big as the one here?"

"Yep, Why?"

"I'd like to make a reservation."

"For 1 or 2?"

"2, you ninny"

"On that note, I think I'll go back to trying to sleep."

"Good night Rick."

"Good night Sparrow Hawk."

"Hayley, will you do me a favor?"

"Sure girl, what do you need?"

"I want you to go shopping with me tomorrow after work. Rick's taking me out for dinner and dancing while we're in the Keys and I want something special to wear."

"Goody!" Hayley was a card-carrying shopaholic. "Anything else you're looking for?"

Kate met her gaze and smiled shyly, "Maybe a bikini."

"Kate, that's extraordinary! A hot little dress and a bikini in the same week? Rick isn't going to know what hit him."

Hayley stood and went to the kitchen to make a couple of mugs of herbal tea. As she worked, she called out to Kate, "Tell me some more about your weekend."

"Okay, did you know….


	35. Chapter 35

Tampa Monday October 10

Kate spent the morning inputting data on the two terrorist incidents into her laptop, and organizing the many individual pieces of evidence. This case had almost too many pieces of evidence, the truly significant ones were buried in a mountain of trivia. She just had to find the one piece that started a chain reaction of linking and crosslinking till the full picture emerged.

Around 10:00 Hayley stopped by with the preliminary CSU report, and they went through it line by line updating her laptop with new information. The most interesting finding came from fingerprints of the terrorists. Five of the ten generated hits on the FBI database. The other five were sent to Interpol, and the results were expected sometime on Tuesday.

The five hits were individually interesting as well:

Hovan Arutyunyan - Chechen, 39 years old, PhD. Chemical Engineering, University of Kiev, professor of chemical engineering at Chechen State University before the war, Wanted by the Russian Police for terrorist activity using chemical weapons during Chechen War.

Chulmoo Soh - North Korean, 34 years old, Pyongyang University, major unknown, wanted by South Korea and Japan for espionage.

Azad Esfahani - Iranian, 38 years old, M.D., Baqiyatallah University of Medical Sciences, Member of Iranian Revolutionary Guards

Vojin Milutinovic - Serbian, 43 years old, education unknown, member of Serbian White Eagle Militia. Convicted of genocide by U.N. War Crimes Tribunal, but escaped before sentence could be carried out.

Kuan-Yin Jiang - Chinese, 32 years old, Sergeant in 3rd Airborne Brigade, PLA, discharged in 2005 for shooting a prisoner during a demonstration in Tibet, Whereabouts unknown.

Hayley looked up to meet Kate's gaze and shook her head in frustration. "What a motley collection of goons. I don't see any connection other than they decided to do their thing on the wrong golf course at the wrong time."

Kate sighed, "I agree, other than maybe the Iranian, none of these other groups have a history of going after Americans. So who were they working for and what was their objective?"

Kate's phone rang, she answered and reached over to activate the conference feature, "Go ahead Guy, I just put you on speaker, if you don't mind, would you please reintroduce yourself?"

"Guy Ahearne, Special Agent in Charge, Phoenix office."

"Thank you, I'm Supervisory Special Agent Kate Beckett and also here is Special Agent Hayley Shipton. What do you have for us?

"We cross referenced the GPS data you gave us with the sales records for the cylinders, and one location popped out. It's a leased factory building in an industrial park on the southeast side of Phoenix. The sign outside says Victory Pharmaceuticals. We did a quick canvas of the surrounding businesses and no one has seen any activity for over a week. Do you want us to move in now, or wait a while longer to see if any one shows up?"

"Now" Kate spoke firmly, "but you need to take appropriate precautions, as we suspect they were producing chemical and biological weapons. I wouldn't put it past these bastards to leave some behind on purpose."

"I have three agents who have been trained in NBC investigations and they have the proper equipment.

"Very good!" Kate applauded, "Go for it"

Hayley leaned forward. "Guy, I think you should send an EOD team in with them to sweep for booby traps."

"Okay, good thinking Agent Shipton"

Kate hit the mute button, "What made you think of that?"

"Something Rick said at the golf course - 'Why waste a target rich environment'?"

Marveling, Kate turned the phone back on, They'd only known Rick for a week and already he had them thinking like soldiers.

Kate's phone chimed an incoming text. She saw the sender was Rick; and Hayley smiled at how her face lit up. The message read - Good Morning Beautiful.

She quickly composed an answer "Good Morning did you get any sleep?

"A little, you?

"Same, I'll make it up to you this weekend"

"OOOH, I like the sound of that"

"Do you think you could come by this afternoon? We have new information."

"Sure, I have some for you as well. Two-ish okay.

"Yeah, that's good see you then."

Guy Ahearne came back on the line, "Agent Beckett?"

"Yes, we're here."

"My guys are ready to enter, a couple of them have helmet cams , I can send you a video feed if you'd like.

"Sure," and she read off her IP address. In a few seconds, the video appeared on her screen, and she and Hayley slid forward in their seats gazing at the screen intently. The bomb squad finished examining the door and gave the all clear sign. One of the entry team used an axe on the door, and it swung open. The team leader was the first through the door and he had a helmet cam. Kate felt a wave of nausea hit, and clapped her hand over her mouth. Hayley went pale and turned away from the screen. The floor of the building, as far as the camera could see was covered with bodies and pools of congealed blood. The bodies were mostly dressed in white clean-room suits and each had a single gun shot to the back of the head.

"Looks like we found the right place," Guy offered a bit redundantly.

"Guy are there any surveillance cameras in the parking lot?" Kate asked.

Unfortunately no, not that we've seen anyway. The owner of the building is supposed to be here in a couple of hours, maybe he'll be of some help."

"Okay we'll get out of your hair, give me a call if anything pops up and thanks for your help.  
"You bet, I'll be in touch."

When Kate looked at the clock, she was surprised that it was already 11:40. She turned to Hayley, "How about we grab a salad at Whole Foods?

"Okay"

An hour later, they returned from lunch and Kate noticed her voice mail light blinking. The message was from Guy Ahearne and she dialed his number immediately. "Hello Guy, What's up?"

"Kate, the owner is here now, and he says there are surveillance cameras, they are hidden because people kept stealing the others. I'm going to send you the last ten days, that should cover the time you're interested in."

"Thanks, keep in touch."

Twenty minutes later, Kate had finished downloading the video and burning two copies onto DVD's. She and Hayley settled back to watch the video at 20 times normal speed. The two black SUV's were parked near the building at the beginning of the video, then that night there was a good bit of activity around the two vehicles, and then they pulled out and disappeared.

They were still scrolling forward, trying to determine when the SUV's returned, when Kate's phone rang. She checked the caller ID and accepted the call when she saw that the caller was Gerhard Hoch. "Good afternoon Gerhard."

"Hello Kate, I have good news and bad news."  
"Okay, give me the good news."

"The good news is that I'm sitting in Professor Tsiapinski's office drinking a lovely caramel macchiato.

"I'm glad you're comfy Gerhard, so what's the bad news?"

"The bad news is, the professor is gone."

"Gone?"

"Gone. As in 'took it on the lam', 'got out of Dodge', 'hit the road',….

"OK Gerhard," Kate chuckled, "I get the picture"

"No one has seen him since Friday before last, he seems to have pretty much left everything behind, other than his laptop. " I've got one of my best agents and the Crime Scene Unit on their way to tear this office apart, and I'm waiting on a warrant to toss his condo."

"Sounds like you've got it under control Gerhard, keep me informed please and call if you have any questions."

"Goodbye Kate."

She hung up and noticed Hayley looking at her with a quizzical expression, "The good professor has flown the coop."

"Well, look on the bright side." Hayley urged.

"There's a bright side?""

"Sure, 'flight to avoid arrest' is a pretty good indication that we have the right guy."

"Yeah, I guess. He's got a week head start, but let's notify TSA and the Border Patrol anyway, maybe he hasn't left the country yet."

"Okay," Hayley agreed, and she headed back to her office.

Kate rested her elbows on her desk and supported her head in her hands. She used her thumbs to massage her temples. Looking at the grainy video had given her a headache.

"I could take care of that for you…"

She looked up startled, she hadn't been aware of anyone entering her office, "Rick?"

"Hello beautiful. Rough day? "

"Yeah, this case is weird, there's so much evidence that it's hard to sort it all out." She noticed that he was carrying a takeout tray with three large Starbuck's cups, then the tantalizing aroma made her taste buds tingle in anticipation.

Rick extracted one cup and handed it to her, "Maybe this will help a little. Pumpkin Spice Latte."  
She sipped tentatively and sighed with pleasure. "This is good." She gave him a smile that threatened to buckle his knees. "It was sweet of you to think of me."

He grinned sheepishly, "That's all I've done since you left yesterday."

"I assume one is for you, who's the other one for?"

"My number 2 main lady."

Kate hit speed dial 1 on her phone, "Hayley can you come back to my office, please."

"Can I sit," he asked.

"Oh sure, I was just so blown away by you showing up with coffee that I forgot my manners."

Hayley bustled in, "What's up Kate….Oh hi Rick"

"Hello Hayley."

He handed her the third cup and she sniffed appreciatively, "Pumpkin Spice Latte, I love this flavor." She sat in the other guest chair and took a large sip, "Mmmm."

"How about I give you my update," Rick offered, "And then you can show me what you have." Both women nodded. "Well, by some combination of wizardry, alchemy and sheer genius, Lainie and her group were able to identify the source of the tritium/deuterium in the small cylinder."

"Where did it come from." Hayley questioned.

"Ukraine, Khmelnytskyy Nuclear Power Plant to be precise."

"How did Ukrainian nuclear material find its way to the U.S." Kate wondered, "Do we import the stuff from the Ukraine?"  
"No, we make our own at the Savannah River Plant. Actually most of the world's supply of tritium used for civilian purposes is made either at Savannah River or at Khmelnytskyy. It might not be a bad idea to to have your legal attache in Kiev pay a visit to the site. They're usually meticulous in their material control and documentation. Probably won't find any thing but it won't hurt to check.

"Okay," Kate agreed "I'll get Roy to call them, bossing around legal attaches is above my pay grade."

"So ladies, what do you have for me?"

Kate filled him in on all the info that had accumulated that morning.

Rick whistled tunelessly when she finished. "I see what you mean by data overload. May I see the video?"

"Sure," Kate restarted the video at the point where the unidentified figures appeared to be loading something into the SUV's.

"The video quality sucks," Rick grumbled, "They could be loading a baby hippo into that SUV and we wouldn't be able to tell." Then he slumped back in his seat and seemed to stare at the opposite wall. Kate and Hayley just smiled and sipped their latte's. They knew exactly what was happening, Rick had just thrown the 'box' out the window and his mind went into overdrive, forming ideas, testing them, modifying, linking until he had a solution. He shivered and seemed to shake off the trance, a smile growing that gave both Kate and Hayley chills. Things were about to get interesting.

Rick addressed them both, "Is there a picture of the location of this camera?"

"Not that I know of" Hayley responded, "But I can get one quickly enough"

"Please," Rick nodded.

One text message and five minutes later, a passable photo of the light pole was displayed on Kate's laptop. Rick studied it for a minute. "I want the whole thing brought to the institute. It can't be damaged in any way." He gave Kate a quizzical look. "Can your folks handle that , or do I need to send someone out from the institute.?"

"They know how to handle a crime scene, Rick."

"Okay, just checking. There are some other things that I'll need before they take the pole down."

Kate turned over a fresh page on her legal pad and posed her pen over the page "Just tell me what you need, and I'll pass it on to Guy."

Rick started counting off on his fingers, "One - the exact location of the pole, Two - the exact orientation of the camera, Three - exact locations of any landmarks within the field of view of the camera, …"

"Whoa, hold on a minute," Kate interrupted, "What do you mean by 'exact'?

Rick reached into the inside breast pocket of his blazer and pulled out a calculator, "Give me a second and I'll tell you precisely." He busied himself punching the keys on the calculator and occasionally making cryptic notes on a sheet of paper he stole from Kate's legal pad. Making some final notes on the paper, he slipped the calculator back into his pocket and met the women's expectant gaze. "If we can measure distances to within 2 millimeters and measure angles to within plus or minus one minute of angle, then we should be able to improve the video resolution by a factor of a hundred. That should allow us to recognize faces. If we could measure distances to within 0.1 millimeter, and angles to plus or minus a tenth of minute of angle, then we should be able to improve the resolution by a factor of ten thousand or so. That would allow us to read a newspaper at that distance."

"Is that even possible?" Hayley asked.

"Oh yes, not easy, but doable."  
"Rick, I think you've moved out of FBI territory and into the 'mad-scientist' realm."

"And I know just the mad scientist to call." He scrolled through his contact list and placed a call. "Professor LoPilato please, Rick Castle calling" While they were waiting,Rick activated the speaker on his phone so that Kate and Hayley could follow the conversation.

"Rick, are you in town, where are you, why didn't you let me know you were coming….?

Rick interrupted the rapid fire string of questions, "Dan, calm down, I'm not in town. At the moment I'm in the Tampa FBI office and you're on speaker."

"FBI? Are you in trouble, of course you are, they found out about the …Wait a minute did you say I'm on speaker?

"I did Dan and I assure you that they are not after me."

Kate gave him a quarter glare and mouthed -"Yet."

"Oh my god, that means they're after me. They know about the twenty boxes of Cohiba's that I brought back with me when I went to Mexico last month, I am so busted…

"Dan, did you take your medication today?"

"I don't know, let me look. Oh crap, I'll be back in a minute."

Kate and Hayley struggled mightily to stifle laughter, but were losing ground rapidly, so Rick muted his phone."Come on you two, show a little respect," Rick chided.

That triggered new gales of laughter "Rick, you've got to be kidding," Kate choked out, "The guy is a maniac."

"He has adult ADHD, he is not a maniac. He's also a full professor at Arizona State."

"Sorry Rick, we'll behave." Hayley promised.

The voice of Professor LoPilato came back on line considerably less manic than before "Rick you still there buddy?"

Rick unmuted his phone, "Yeah Dan, still here, try not to confess to any more felonies, okay?"

"I'll try. What can I do for you my friend."  
"First let me introduce the folks on this end of the line, there's Special Agent Kate Beckett."

"Hello Professor"

"Hello"

"And Special Agent Hayley Shipton."

"Hi, Professor"

"Hi, you weren't kidding about the FBI thing were you Rick?

"Nope, ladies this reformed maniac is Professor Dante LoPilato, professor of engineering at Arizona State University.

"Rick are these ladies half as gorgeous as their voices would imply?"

"Oh, considerably more than half Dan, considerably more."

"So you're telling me that you're in a room alone with two smokin' hot federal agents and you didn't even have to get arrested? Rick Castle you have all the luck. It's not fair."

"Dan, can we get back to the point of the call?"

"Sure, sure"

"I have a consulting opportunity for you. It would involve developing some new technology and pushing back the frontiers of science a bit."

"Publishable?" the goofy professor was suddenly all business and the women marveled at the sudden transformation.

"Oh yeah."

"Then I'm in."

Rick proceeded to give his friend an overview of what he needed to be done at the crime scene. Thirty minutes later, they had pretty much nailed down the basic approach to acquiring the precision measurements that Rick needed. "Dan, once you finish with your measurements, the Bureau will dismantle the light pole containing the camera and ship it back to the institute. I'm assigning one of my interns to characterize the camera and write the code to do the analysis on Leonardo."

"Must be a pretty special intern, to get a shot at something like this."

"She is." Rick grinned, "Dan, I have an idea, how about you assign a grad student to work with her. That way your group can be involved in the work that's done at the institute as well as what you do in Phoenix."

"I like it" Dan replied, "I have just the kid to do it too."

"Anybody I know?" Rick wondered.

"Could be, I was thinking of young Rutledge, just got his PhD, and we were looking for a good post-doc opportunity. This would be right up his alley."

"South Carolina Rutledge?"

"Yeah, you know him?

"I know the family, played baseball with a Rutledge at MIT. Why don't you have him call me tomorrow and we'll chat. In the meantime, the Special Agent in Charge in Phoenix should be getting in touch with you to get you started on the crime scene."

As soon as Rick ended the call, Kate made the call to Guy Ahearne and proposed that Professor LoPilato assist in the investigation. She was expecting some resistance, but it failed to materialize. "I've worked with the professor before," Guy admitted, "And besides I've been instructed to fast track this investigation as much as possible."

"By whom?" Kate wanted to know.

"The Director, but he was in the Oval Office when he called"

"Oh my…"

"Don't worry Kate, I want to get these guys as badly as anyone."

"Thanks Guy."

"Anytime. Goodbye Kate."

Kate turned to Rick "How long do you think it will take to get the enhanced video?"

"10 days or so. Maybe a little less if the Rutledge kid is any good"

Hayley suddenly straightened in her chair, "I think I just had one of Rick's blinding flashes of light!"

Rick held out his hand for a fist bump and Kate looked at her quizzically "Care to share with the class?"

"Yeah, but first we need to know when the SUV's came back. We know that they left for Florida on 10/2, so they had to come back before if we get their average speed and number of stops from the GPS data for the Florida trip, we can superimpose that data on the elapsed time for the earlier trip we can at least estimate how far they went and maybe a possible target will pop."  
"Worth a try," Rick nodded at Hayley approvingly, earning him a smile. Kate started the video again and they barely had time to settle back and get comfortable before one of the SUV's made its appearance. Kate stopped the video and wrote down the time on her pad. Doing some quick mental arithmetic, she calculated the elapsed time - 12 hours and 17 minutes. Hayley was studying the printout of the GPS data and pointing out numbers to Rick, who was manically manipulating his calculator. He looked up to find both women leaning forward in anticipation. "With 90% confidence, the trip radius is between 327 and 397 miles."  
Kate cleared her throat, drawing her companions' attention. "I have a question." Rick and Hayley both nodded, "Why did they send two SUV's to Florida? Everything that we found at the golf course would have fit in one vehicle, so why send 2?"

"Maybe they knew they would need more manpower for the attack at The Claw, so the second SUV was just carrying more goons." Hayley theorized.

" But if they just wanted to move people, why not fly them in, it would be a lot less risky? Kate countered.

"We only know the route for the vehicle that has the GPS," Rick interjected, "We're only assuming that they traveled together. Who knows what the other one was doing."

"I know how we can find out." Kate grinned at the other two, "We pick a traffic cam on the interstate, and since we know exactly when SUV No. 1 passed any given point, we know when it passed the traffic cam. If we get the video, we should be able to tell if they were traveling together."

"Great idea" Rick acknowledged, "But even if they weren't traveling together, we should be able to scan the major roads coming in to Florida, the time window we're interested in is not all that wide."

"I'll call FHP, they've done things kind of like this for us before." Kate picked up her phone, consulted her contact list and placed the call. Ten minutes later she ended the call and shared a satisfied grin. "They'll have the info by this time tomorrow."

Rick spoke up, "Getting back to Kate's original question, I think the hypothesis that best fits the available data is that they brought more than what they used at The Claw."

"Which means that there's more of that stuff floating around that hasn't been used yet" Hayley continued Rick's thought.

"And maybe it hasn't been used yet because we took out the people who were supposed to use it." Kate said.

"Which raises the question, do they have buddies that will be able to find it, or is it lost until some modern day Pandora stumbles on it and unleashes the apocalypse." Rick wondered. "What if we had the local news organizations run a PSA showing the three cylinders and …heck, offer a reward."

"Good idea," Kate agreed, "And we'll issue a BOLO covering the entire 'll get all the local law enforcement agencies on board."

"Oh crap!" Rick muttered under his breath.

"What's wrong Rick? Kate asked with a look of concern.

"I can't believe I overlooked it. I must be getting old."

"Overlooked what Rick?" Kate was a little exasperated.

"Sorry, Kate did your CSU check the SUV's for radiation?"

"I doubt it, it's not part of the normal protocol…Oh crap, the small cylinder. You think they may have transported the rest of a bomb?

"Why not?, it fits all the data. How soon can we get the scan done?"

"Tomorrow morning probably."

"Okay," He stood, "Kate, do you have plans for tonight?"

"Actually, I do. Hayley and I are going to grab a bite to eat and then get some shopping in."  
"Cool, can I go?"

"NO!" they answered in perfect harmony, and laughed at his crestfallen look.

"Well, in that case, I guess I'll make an appearance at the Board of Trustees meeting at the University. The food's usually pretty good and it'll save me from having to go home and cook." Kate stepped around her desk and walked into his arms.

He held her lightly, but firmly; individual energy diffusing, mingling, building until Hayley felt she could literally feel the warmth rolling off the two of them. Not the raw heat of animal passion, but the gentle warmth of the rising sun on a crisp autumn morning. She willed her feet to leave the office, but they seemed permanently attached to the floor, unwilling to lose even the pale reflection of the experience.

In the event, Kate saved her from her struggle. She rose on tiptoes and gave Rick a quick peck on the cheek, and whispered something in his ear. He released her with a grin, gave Hayley a one-arm hug and with a final "Until tomorrow, ladies" he disappeared down the hallway toward the main entrance.


	36. Chapter 36

Tampa Tuesday October 11

Kate's phone chimed at precisely 8:00. She finished unpacking her laptop and powered it on. While the computer was booting up, she settled herself at her desk, before checking the incoming text "Good Morning Beautiful."

She answered "Good Morning. You're up early."

"Not as much incentive to sleep in when you're on the deck. Plus I have an early meeting at the Institute. Trying to buy a ship.

"You didn't really sleep on the deck again, did you?

"Yep."

"Rick!"

"I have an idea."

"Uh Oh."

"You wound me, Agent Beckett."

"Okay, Rick, let's hear it."

"How about I bring lunch for the three of us and we can spend some time going over any new data."

"I like the way you think Mr. Castle."

"Okay, see you around 12."

Kate looked up to see Hayley regarding her from the doorway, a mile-wide smile on her face. "Since you were beaming, I'm assuming that was Rick you were texting back and forth with?"

"Yes it was….Beaming?"

"Yep."

"I was just excited that he offered to bring lunch."

"Riiiiiight. Anything popped yet?"

"No not yet, I'm going to try to finish organizing all the data we have. Why don't you get the BOLO issued and call some of the local TV stations and see if they're open to doing a PSA?

"Okay, give me a call if anything comes up." Hayley disappeared down the hall toward her own office.

Kate worked diligently, organizing the remainder of the information they had so far. She knew that soon the higher ups would be wanting progress reports, and she wanted to be ready, she wanted to show that her promotion had not been a mistake.

The buzzing of her phone interrupted her work. A quick glance at her clock as she accepted the call showed 10:47, she'd been working for a while. "Beckett."

"Agent Beckett, this is Piersal over at CSU, I have the results of the radiation scan on the two vehicles. Negative on number 1, positive on number 2."

"Thanks," she sat frozen for a second, a cold numbness gripping her heart and the deadly words running an endless loop through her mind Nukes, they have nukes. She shook off the fear and hit speed dial 1 on her phone. "Hayley, can you come by when you have a minute?"

The phone buzzed again, just as Hayley showed up. Kate waved her friend to a seat and accepted the call. "Beckett…..Okay thanks." She returned her phone to the desktop and met Hayley's curious gaze. "That was FHP, They finished the scan on I-10. No sign of the second SUV. "

"That complicates things a bit, now we have to figure out what No. 2 was doing before it met up at the golf course?"

"It's worse than that," Hayley's eyebrows slid upwards, and Kate continued, "Number 2 tested positive for radiation."

"Oh crap, have you told Rick?"

"No, he'll be here in a little over an hour. I'll tell him then."

"In the meantime, how about we go through some more of the Phoenix tape and see if we can nail down when the second SUV returned?"

"Okay." Kate started the video at the point they had reached the day before, and they both settled back to watch. Fortunately, there was a fair amount of activity, mostly people coming and going at times that likely corresponded to shift changes. Occasionally, there was activity around the lone SUV, but the hideous quality of the video prevented any meaningful analysis.

Hayley stood and stretched, "This is turning my brain to mush, let's take a break."

Kate reached for her mouse, but froze, her hand in mid-air, "There it is!" Instead of the mouse, she grabbed a pen and jotted down the time stamp. "Looks like an elapsed time of 47 hours and 51 minutes."

"Do you have a calculator?" Hayley asked, "I saw how Rick did the analysis yesterday, I think I can do it."

"Sure," Kate pulled a calculator from her drawer and passed it across the desk.

"I make it a radius of 1450 miles plus or minus 50 miles.

"Good afternoon ladies," Rick greeted them,"You two certainly look pleased with yourselves." He held up a Musashi takeout bag "Let's eat and you can tell me all about it." He walked around the desk to give Kate a quick hug as Hayley started pulling containers out of the bag.

"Rick, there's five containers here," Hayley observed, "Is someone else joining us?"

"No, just me being paranoid, the three containers marked with a B are Akahiro's world famous Boom - Boom Shrimp Salad, but I wasn't sure, so I brought a couple of their house salads just in case one of you wanted something different."

"Rick, you're going to spoil us, " Hayley laughed and glanced over at Kate who shook her head in resignation.

"I've been accused of worse things," Rick chuckled. "I for one am going with Boom - Boom." He sat in his usual seat and opened the plastic container.

"Sounds good to me," Hayley selected one of the marked containers and passed the last one to Kate who nodded her acceptance. They ate in a tense silence for a few minutes.

"Bad news, huh?" Rick broke the silence.  
"How….." Kate was surprised by the sudden question.

"Because Akahiro's Boom - Boom Shrimp Salad has been known to trigger spontaneous raptures of praise in the most reticent of food critics, and neither of you have made a sound since you started eating." He paused expectantly. Both women failed to respond, so he added gently, "Let me guess, one or both of the SUV's tested positive for radiation."

"Number 2" Kate responded.

"That's not much of a surprise," Rick added calmly, "An unwelcome development to be sure, but a logical progression from what they've done so far."

Hayley spoke up, "It's just a bit unsettling to think that I might wake up tomorrow morning as radioactive dust." Kate nodded her agreement.

"I hear you," he agreed, "That's why we have to catch these bastards. Y'all got any more info.

"The two SUV's didn't travel together on the way to Florida." Kate responded.

"Now that's interesting, gives us a whole new avenue of inquiry." He got a faraway look in his eyes and a grin started to form, a particularly Castle kind of grin. A grin that gave the two women a thrill and a chill at the same time, Leviathan had been summoned and bubbles were already rising to the surface. "Kate, can we look at that GPS data again?"

"Sure Rick, care to share?"

"Sorry, let's pretend we're planning the Claw op, I think that will clear things up nicely. We'll use a technique called back-planning that I was taught at Quantico. We start with the end result - an attack designed to cause the maximum amount of casualties. What was necessary to achieve that result?"

"Everything and everyone had to be in place at the right time." Kate offered.

"And all their actions had to be coordinated perfectly." Hayley added.

"Exactly, We call all of that synchronicity. Now what was necessary to achieve synchronicity?"

Kate was starting to see the picture that Rick was painting, "In this case, all of their assets were arriving in two different vehicles, from two different directions, with two different starting points and all had to arrive at the golf course at the same time."

"So what could interfere with that?" Rick asked.

Hayley laughed, "Lots of things, traffic cops, accidents, traffic in general, and so on.

"Good," Rick acknowledged, "And how would you mitigate that possibility?"

The women thought hard for a second and the answer occurred to Kate "They would meet somewhere out of the way, and drive over together."

Damn, I love this girl, Rick thought. "Correct, the technical term for that place is 'Assembly Area'. What else might you do to pass the time while you're chilling at the assembly area?"

Hayley raised her hand.

"Yes Ms. Shipton." Rick instructed with a chuckle.

"Practice?"

"Very good. This op was planned by a soldier, and I promise you these guys did not just roll up to the maintenance shed and start hooking up gas cylinders. They at least had a dress rehearsal before they jumped off. So my question is - where's the assembly area?"

"Is that why you wanted to go over the GPS data again?"

"Yes, there has to be a stop in there somewhere."

"I can download it to my laptop, we'll see more detail than on my phone." Kate said.

"Good idea. One other thing, I need to revise my statement about the Claw attack being a suicide mission. I've been going back through everything for the last couple of nights and I think the new evidence points to the bad guys planning to break contact after they executed the triple header and do bad things somewhere else. I also don't think we got them all."

"But Rick," Kate protested, "We took out everyone inside the maintenance shed."

"We did, but I'm talking about the other end of the operation, the part near the clubhouse. Some one had sneak in before daylight and place the claymore's. Then someone had to be in line of sight to trigger them at the right time."

"Couldn't the group at the maintenance shed have done that too?" Hayley questioned.

"Could've, but the two locations are pretty far apart for jumping back and forth, and the less scurrying around, the better."

"Rick, the GPS data is finished downloading." Kate stated.

"Okay, if you were planning this, you'd want the assembly area to be as close as possible to the target, as long as you have good security."

Kate nodded her understanding, "How about we zoom in on say the last 10 miles of the route and see what we get?"

Rick and Hayley slid forward in their seats, focused intently on the laptop screen. "What's that?" Hayley pointed at the screen, where an anomaly in the route was clearly visible.

The vehicle had apparently turned off the interstate, traveled about 400 meters to the west, then reversed course and traveled east for a couple of miles to the golf course.

"Kate, can you determine the elapsed time between when the vehicle turned off the interstate and when it crossed back over the interstate on the way to the Claw Thursday morning?" Rick inquired.

"Sure" she replied, and a couple of click's later she had the answer, "Looks like about 20 hours."

"Any idea what's there?"

Hayley spoke up "I know, that's only a short distance from my apartment. It's the old Floriland mall."

"Empty?" Rick queried and Hayley nodded. "That's it then. Road trip?"

"Road trip!" both women agreed.

"Do you two have raid gear? Both women rolled their eyes, and he chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes. Might be a good idea to suit up, you don't know what we'll find when we get there."

"Good idea," Kate hoisted the duffel bag containing her raid gear over her shoulder and headed down the hall to the women's locker room. Hayley trotted off down the hall and around the corner toward her office and her own gear.

When Kate left, Rick sprinted to the parking lot and retrieved his own duffel bag from the Range rover and hurried back to change in the men's locker room. When he returned to Kate's office, the two women were waiting. Rick glanced from one to the other and whistled silently to himself. Who would've thought that black jumpsuits, body armor and a slung carbine could be so darn hot? Kate giggled, "You don't look so bad yourself, Mr. Castle."

Oops "Did I say that out loud?"

"You didn't have to, it was written on your face." Hayley said with a wicked grin.

"Uh, sorry ladies, I didn't …."

"Relax Rick, from other guys it would be creepy, but from you it just makes a woman feel appreciated." Hayley continued.

"Let's get this road trip on the road" Kate suggested, and the three strode purposefully toward the parking lo 50 miles."

Rick drove the Range Rover fast, just short of crazy fast, because his gut was telling him that haste was critical. He had no idea why, but he always listened to his gut.

Kate was on the phone with the Hillsborough Sheriff's Department arranging for their SWAT team to serve as backup and for uniformed deputies to establish a security perimeter. He sensed that Kate was winding down, and offered one point to relay to the Swat Team, "Kate, tell them to hold at least a block away. If there are bad guys there, they're likely sitting on stockpiled WMD, and if they get spooked they might do something stupid."

She relayed the message, and gave Rick a curious look, "How are we going to get close without spooking them"

Rick grinned, "I brought a few friends along that'll handle that part of the operation"

"These friends wouldn't by any chance have been born in the bowels of the Orion Institute would they?"

His grin got wider "Possibly, just possibly." He slowed down to normal speed as they approached the exit for Busch Blvd. They drove west on Busch, passing the Mall on their right. "Hayley is there a relatively secluded spot near the mall?"

"There's a trailer park on the north side adjoining the mall parking lot and several decent size clumps of trees. Take a right on Florida Ave. If you want to check it out."

As Rick made the right turn onto Florida, the two women were intently examining the area around the mall. "Certainly seems deserted" Hayley observed. She noticed a large realtor sign - For Sale or Lease, with a number. On impulse, she pulled out her phone and punched in the number.

"Girl, Who are you calling?" Kate questioned.

Hayley held up her index finger Wait one, "Hello, I am interested in purchasing the old Floriland Mall facility. No, I'm sorry but my client insists on anonymity in the early stages of negotiations, Oh I'm sorry to hear that, an entire year you say. Thank you for your time, if my client decides to proceed, I'll be in touch." She ended the call and grinned proudly. "Guess what , The whole facility was leased two months ago for 12 months paid in advance. The agent said the lessee wanted to use it for storage."

Kate turned to Rick, "Spidey senses?"

"Tingling like mad," He responded and turned into the trailer park, coming to a halt at an empty lot separated from the mall lot by a thick clump of live-oaks. He walked to the rear and opened the liftgate. Kate and Hayley joined him just as he lifted, with a grunt of effort, a metal container with a vaguely military look out of the car and set it on the ground. He opened the container, and both women gasped in recognition, the last time they had seen a metallic frisbee shape like this it had turned a sniper into a glowing ball of plasma.

"A mini Valkyrie!" Kate exclaimed. "You going to zap the bad guys?"

"No, no zapping." Rick responded, "This one is too small to carry the Hammer. But this one carries something even more important for us, a miniaturized cybernetic recon battalion." Both women were looking at him in confusion, so he plucked something small out of a corner of the case and placed it in the tenuously outstretched hand of Kate Beckett.

"It looks like a robot cockroach," Kate marveled.

Rick was carrying a small device that looked something like an electronic key fob, and he pressed a button with a barely audible click and the bug sprang to life and streaked up her arm, across the back of her neck resulting in a startled shriek and a flailing attempt to terminate the bug's existence. The creature cleverly evaded her attacks and leapt the two foot gap to Hayley to the accompaniment of more shrieks and even more violent flailing. Rick pushed another button and the bug leapt onto his arm and shut down. Both women smacked him on the chest with enough combined force that he took a half step back, laughing. "Rick Castle, you can be such a child sometimes," Kate scolded, "If you ever get one of those things within 10 feet of me again, I'll withhold se…er, hugs. For the rest of your life.

"Yeah, what she said" Hayley concurred. "Except for the hug part."

"Hey," an unfamiliar voice intruded, "What are you perverts doing out there?" the source of the voice was an older woman, dressed in a faded housecoat, standing on the front porch of her trailer and brandishing a baseball bat. "If you don't leave, I'm calling the cops."

Kate held up her badge, "FBI, go back inside your home ma'am or I'll have to arrest you. The woman disappeared with alacrity.

Rick went to the Range Rover, still chuckling under his breath. When he returned he was carrying the controller for the mini Valkyrie, identical to the one they had seen at the golf course. He powered up the controller and warned "Stand back,Ladies" and the Valkyrie rose steadily until Rick activated it's stealth systems and it disappeared from human sight.

Hayley and Kate were watching over Rick's shoulder as he flew the Valkyrie toward the mall. They noticed it was slowly descending, and curiosity prompted Kate to speak, "What exactly are you doing Rick?"

"Looking for a way in. I'm going to try the simple stupid approach first, if that doesn't work, then I'll try something else."

"Are you trying to fly the Valkyrie into the mall?" Hayley asked.

"No, I'm going to get the Fire Ants inside."

"Fire Ants?" Kate questioned.

"The robot bugs you had so much fun with earlier. The Valkyrie carries 36 of them. They can do a lot of things, but burrowing through concrete walls isn't one of them. So I have to find an opening of some kind." The screen on the controller showed the Valkyrie was slowly approaching the main entrance with its automatic sliding glass doors.

"Surely, they didn't leave the automatic doors on." Kate scoffed.

"You never know, some things people just take for granted and don't really pay attention to them. The Valkyrie was now at about waist height and it slipped under the arched entrance and approached the doors. Kate and Hayley both gasped as the doors slid open and Rick touched an icon on the screen and 36 Fire Ant robotic scouts tumbled from the belly of the drone, righted themselves and charged through the open door.

The scouts quickly spread out into pre-programmed formations and hurried on, their exquisitely sensitive instruments scanning ahead and cataloging information for transmission to the Valkyrie, which was now hovering a hundred feet above the mall monitoring its tiny charges and relaying their take to their common master. The controller screen was now displaying the take from the Fire Ants, the screen divided into many small windows. One window started to pulse red, and Rick quickly expanded that window and grunted in satisfaction. "Well, well, what have we here?"

Kate looked intently at the screen "Rick, there has to be at least 20 men in there." The screen did indeed show a large group of men gathered around four SUVs that were parked in the mall's central court.

"Yeah," he agreed, "about right." He reached out and maximized one of the small windows. Kate heard the deadly hiss of a breath indrawn through clenched teeth and leaned over to see what had disturbed Rick.

She instantly regretted her curiosity, "Are those what I think they are?"

He grimaced, "If you think they are nerve gas and virus cylinders, then they are exactly what you think they are."

She counted carefully, "Rick, it looks to me like there are 16 of each.

"If they stick to their pattern," Hayley observed from the backseat, "That represents four more attacks."

"That could explain the four SUVs" Kate observed.

Rick minimized the window and continued a systematic scan of the were numerous boxes and cases of equipment stacked around the periphery of the court and parked in one of the four concourses was a small forklift.

"Rick, what is that thing?" Kate's keen eyes had picked up an unusual looking piece of machinery. It was about the size of a large portable generator, but the resemblance ended there; this machine had a piece of tubing, about two inches in diameter and two feet long, protruding from one end and angled upward at a 45 degree angle.

"Whatever else you can say about these mutts," Rick had recognized the device instantly, "You've got to give them points for creativity." He paused for a second. "Kate, it's a fogger, like what the county uses to spray for mosquitoes. They're usually mounted in the bed of a pickup truck, but there's no reason you couldn't stuff it into the back of an SUV."

"Oh crap," both women said together. He just nodded agreement.

Rick selected one of the Fire Ants and switched it from autonomous mode to manual. A touch on the screen brought up a virtual keypad and he entered a series of commands. Pressing execute, he sank back in the seat to collect his thoughts. Kate stirred in the seat next to him, but he preempted her question by explaining "I just took over control of one of the Fire Ants and programmed it run a search pattern consisting of an expanding series of partially over lapping circles. I also stored the image of the fogger, and told it to look for more of them." Another window pulsed red, this time accompanied by a high-pitched chirp that might have come from a cricket with attitude.

Kate leaned closer "Found one, huh?" Rick didn't answer, and she looked up to meet his gaze, The icy glare fixed on the screen raised goosebumps and she implored "What is it Rick?"

"This isn't the same Ant" he stated, cold and deadly, "This is an Omega"

"Omega?" He seemed to make a concerted effort to respond to her question. "Kate, the Fire Ants aren't large enough to carry all the types of sensors that we'd like to use. So we designed multiple versions of the Ant, each with a different sensor. Alpha is the basic type, in addition to optical sights, which they all have, it has infrared imaging capability. Beta has a CO2 sensor, it locates living creatures by their exhalations. Gamma detects plastic explosives. Delta detects chemical weapons, Epsilon detects biological weapons." He paused, seemingly reluctant to continue.

"And Omega…?" Kate queried gently.

"Omega detects radiation."

"Are you saying?" Hayley interjected, "That they have nukes in there now?"

"Looks that way" Rick manipulated the controller, "I'm going to get the Omega's location and see what's there." He maximized a window and the two women leaned closer. The picture showed three large metallic boxes sitting side by side on the floor. The boxes were pushed up against a solid wall that formed the northwest side of the octagon-shaped court.

"What are those boxes?" Hayley asked.

"They're contractor tool chests, made out of heavy gauge steel and heavy as hell." He paused for a second "This is a good example of why children shouldn't be allowed to play with matches."

"Huh?" both women looked at him as if questioning his grip on sanity.

"They've got three critical masses of plutonium sitting within a couple of feet of each other, definitely not cool."

"You mean it could explode?" Kate looked a little pale.

"An explosion is statistically improbable, but that's not the same thing as impossible. The most likely outcome would be a significantly increased neutron flux and people in the area would start showing symptoms of radiation sickness."

"Is there any good news?" Kate asked somewhat facetiously.

"Yeah, at least they're here, and not running around loose. Call your buddy on the Swat team and tell him if the balloon goes up, that his team should take the west entrance and we'll take the north entrance. That way, we'll have the bad guys in a crossfire. Tell them to have the uniforms cover the east and south entrances but not enter, too much chance of friendly fire casualties. Kate, make sure they understand that none of these mutts can leave here alive unless they're in handcuffs. If they let any get past them I'll personally shoot them."

Kate relayed the message and nodded to Rick, "They understand. What do we do now?"

"Try to figure out how to get into the mall without being detected."

"Any ideas?"

"Nope, you"

"No"

Kate's phone rang insistently, and she noticed it was the SWAT commander. When she touched accept, the man's shout was audible to everyone in the Range Rover, "They made us! They made us! Two of those damned SUV's came by and saw us in the parking lot and took off like a bat out of hell."

Rick was watching the controller screen intently, "Looks like someone just got a phone call," he muttered. "Now let's see what they do?" Bedlam erupted among the men in the courtyard. Weapons suddenly appeared and there was a mad scramble for the SUV's.

One man's action was so incongruous that he drew Kate's attention. He was walking deliberately, not scrambling; and he was walking away from the vehicles, not toward them. Instead of a weapon, he was carrying a box, about the size of a lunch-box and there were wires dangling from it. She realized he was walking toward the chests containing the nukes. "Rick, what's he doing ?" the urgency in her voice forced his attention to the window she was pointing toward.

A millisecond was sufficient to recognize the paraphernalia and another millisecond to divine the man's intent. "Damn, he's going to arm the bomb!" He tossed the controller back to Hayley and pushed the start button firing the Range Rover's engine.

"Rick, how long will it take?"  
"Anywhere from 30 seconds to a couple minutes depending on how much practice he's had." The vehicle was already moving forward, heading toward a gap in the trees.

Kate needed no prompting, "Go, Go Go!" She spoke forcefully into her phone. "The subjects are attempting to detonate a nuclear device. Go as briefed and God go with you."

She had hardly terminated the call, when the keening cacophony of dozens of sirens pierced the air. The cavalry was on the way, but there was no way they would make it in time. The Range Rover hit the solid pavement of the mall parking lot and Rick buried the accelerator. Range Rovers are obviously not dragsters, but the 500 horsepower supercharged V8 in Rick's vehicle provided a damn good substitute.

The north entrance to the mall was a bit less than a quarter of a mile away and they had 30 seconds to prevent a holocaust. Rick only had time to give the women one instruction "I'm going to put the car between the bombs and the bad guys. At all costs, we've got to keep them away from those bombs until the cavalry arrives."

For Kate Beckett, the 18.7 seconds it took to cross the parking lot seemed to pass in slow motion. Somehow she got her kevlar helmet on, and she thought back to the night when she had told Hayley that Rick frightened her a little and Hayley had propounded her Leviathan theory. She realized now how foolish she had been to be frightened and she prayed as the Range Rover, traveling in excess of 80 miles per hour, covered the last 30 feet to the sliding glass doors barring their entrance to the mall - Arise, Leviathan , Arise.


	37. Chapter 37

With a rending crash, the Range Rover smashed through the doorway, driving the aluminum framework ahead of it and propelling thousands of spicules of razor sharp glass down the concourse as if by a giant shotgun blast. Rick stood hard on the brakes, and fought the steering wheel as the vehicle fish-tailed wildly on a surface now covered with broken glass.

Rick had been counting on the shock effect of the Range Rover bursting into their midst to paralyze the enemy for a few critical seconds, and so far it seemed to be working. The tool chests containing the bombs were just to the right of where the north concourse opened into the central court and Rick rounded the corner in a four wheel drift, coming to a stop six feet out from and more or less parallel to the wall.

Kate and Hayley bailed out of the passenger side before the vehicle had completely stopped. Hayley started firing, using the Range Rover as cover. Kate had a more compelling priority; the man they had seen carrying the detonators was kneeling in front of an open tool chest and fiddling with something inside that she couldn't see. With a strangled cry of rage, she attacked, butt-stroking the man with the stock of her carbine, breaking his jaw and sending him sprawling. He scrabbled desperately for a handgun stashed in his waistband, but Kate fired first.

She grabbed the detonator box, ripped loose the connections that had already been made to the bomb and flung it with desperate strength back down the concourse. Satisfied that it was safely out of reach for a few minutes, she paused to take stock and try to get control of the chaos exploding around her.

Hayley was at the rear of the Range Rover firing at targets of opportunity, but mostly keeping the enemy in and around the SUV's pinned down and out of the fight. Where is Rick? She took a couple of quick steps to the front of the Range Rover. The snarl of a bullet passing close by startled her and she snapped off a short burst at the muzzle flash, earning her a shriek of pain. Where the hell is Rick?

A rising crescendo of gunshots erupted from the west concourse as the SWAT team entered the fight. Kate moved around the front of the vehicle and gasped. She could see Rick's legs stretched out along the floor, but his head and torso were concealed behind the open driver's door. She lunged forward, pulse pounding and heart sinking. As she turned to clear the open door, she slipped on the broken glass, feet shooting out from under her and she landed full on Rick's lap. An explosive OOF greeted her arrival and she turned to meet his gaze, the adrenalin of hope coursing through her veins.

His eyes were closed, but she could swear that there was a ghost of a smile quirking the corners of his mouth upward. Then a strong, but gentle, arm encircled her waist and pulled her to him. "Are you okay?" she asked hopefully.

"Mostly," he grimaced and opened his eyes, "I'm getting too old for this."

Hayley joined them and knelt beside Rick. "That was the most amazing thing I ever saw!"  
"What do you mean?" Kate wasn't sure that she was comfortable having another woman, even Hayley, looking at Rick the way Hayley was now, a mixture of awe and worship seasoned with something deeper.

Hayley turned to Kate, "When the car stopped, there were 3 or 4 of the bad guys only a few steps away from the driver's side. When Rick started to exit, they jumped him and pulled him out and started beating on him. I say started, because before long the beating was mostly going the other way." She took a deep breath, "Kate, Professor Castle here took on four bad guys hand-to-hand and took them all out!"

Kate turned to Rick, who shrugged minutely. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek, murmuring as her lips neared his skin, "Paladin, pure and true." Rick's arm tightened fiercely, drawing her to him with just enough force to avoid hurting her, but leaving her breathless. He released her and gently shifted her off his lap so he could try to stand. Kate detected another grimace of pain as he made it to the door sill where he sat with his back against front seat, taking shallow breaths a bit too rapidly to be comforting to his partners.

"Rick, what's wrong?" Kate queried urgently.

"It's okay Kate. After I took out the last guy they had a clear field of fire and I took a couple of hits. Just knocked the breath out of me."

Kate noticed that the holster on Rick's right thigh was empty. "Rick, where's your sidearm?"

"I don't know Kate, I never had time to draw it, must have gotten knocked out during the melee sometime."

Hayley leaned over and peered under the Range Rover, "Here it is." She stretched a bit and came out with the Kimber .45, which she passed to Rick. He gave it a quick once over and secured in its holster. He pushed himself up to a standing position leaning against the car's B-pillar. Hayley nodded at something over Kate's shoulder "Company coming."

The SWAT team commander walked up "Agent Beckett?"

Kate responded "That would be me"

We've got the few that are still alive in custody, is there anything else we can help with, being how this is obviously Federal Jurisdiction?"

"The most important thing right now is to positively secure the nuclear devices. If you could provide some manpower to do that until we get the appropriate resources here, that would be most helpful. The next most important thing is to secure the crime scene."

"Don't worry, agent Beckett, we'll take care of those tasks for you until your folks get here."

"Thanks Captain, and thanks for backing us up today, this could have easily turned out inconceivably worse."

"No problem Agent Beckett, any time." He strode off to oversee the setting up of the perimeter.

Rick pushed himself away from his car and took a couple of steps to test his balance, everything seemed fine, so he informed the women, "Before I go any further, I want to see what we are actually dealing with." He went to the back of the Range Rover, and came back with an electronic device about the size of an average television remote. Seeing the women's quizzical look, he informed them, "This is a radiation monitor. Kind of the 21st century version of the old Geiger counter."

He walked towards the bombs, but realized that the two women were following him. He stopped, "You two need to stay here."

"No," Kate stated firmly.

"Hell no," Hayley stated even more firmly.

"I'm serious, you have to stay here."

"Why?" Kate bristled more than a little.

"Because radiation is more dangerous to girls, that's why."

Both women rolled their eyes. "Do you see any 'girls' around here" Kate questioned.

"Nary a one." Hayley replied smugly.

"Look, we don't want to be having 2-headed babies down the road a ways do we."

"Of course not," Kate replied "We can't even take a very quick look?"

"All right, you can look, but when I say git, you've got to git, okay." They both nodded. "I'm going to go take some readings, that way I can calculate the maximum exposure time."

He was back within a minute, and read the numbers off the device's LCD screen, doing the calculations in his head. "These little bastards are pretty hot, so maximum exposure times are 30 seconds for me and 10 seconds for each of you. Let me go first and open them up so you can scoot by and take a quick look at each one."

He moved quickly opening each chest in turn and peering intently in to each for a couple of seconds. He came back to the women and set a 10 second timer on his i-phone. "When I say go, you've got ten seconds, if you're not out, I'll come get you. Go!"

The two women moved quickly to examine the contents of the three chests and sprinted back to Rick when he called time. The experience was not as stimulating as they had anticipated. The contents of the cabinets were squat metal cylinders about 15 inches in diameter and 20 inches tall, painted a peculiar yellowish green. Each cylinder had a panel sporting several electrical connectors. Other than those features, the cylinders were totally nondescript. There were two devices in the first chest, and one in each of the other two.

"I think it's time to make some phone calls," Rick observed and Kate nodded and walked back up the north concourse to call her boss. Rick turned to Hayley. "Can you do me a favor?" When she nodded affirmatively, he continued

"Call Javier and ask him to come pick us up and also have the Range Rover picked up and taken back to the Institute." He flashed her a grin "I assume you have Javier on speed dial?"

"Maybe." She called over her shoulder as she walked away.

Rick's first call was to the governor. "Rick, why do I feel a sense of impending doom whenever you call?"

"Probably, because the people of Florida didn't put a nincompoop into the Governor's Mansion. Anyway, the doom was impending an hour or so ago, not so much now."

"All right Rick, give it to me straight."

"Okay Rich, the FBI and the Hillsborough Sheriff's Department just raided the assembly area that was used by the terrorists who pulled off the attack last week at the Claw. They found enough personnel on site to make up a couple more strike teams, more of the gas cylinders and more virus cylinders." He paused for a second, hearing a strangled gasp from the other end of the line.

"Might as well go ahead and drop the other sandbag." The governor said resignedly.

"They had four nukes Rich, and when they realized the jig was up, they tried to detonate one."

"Damn the bastards! Rick, what are they up to?"

"It seems that someone has declared war on us, we just don't know who they are yet!"

"Is there anything you need from me at the moment?"

"Actually yes, can we get the MP battalion that was at the Claw to provide security while the CSI's are working up the scene?

"I'm sure that can be arranged."

Rick's next call was to the Rocky Flats Arsenal, where he spoke to the leader of the Nuclear Emergency Support Team, more popularly known as the NEST team. They were far and away the best organization to deal with the four nuclear devices. He was assured that the appropriate resources would be on the way to Florida within the hour.

His last call was to the Attorney General. As usual, she picked up on the first ring. "Hello Rick, I take it you didn't call just to pass the time of day."

"Hardly, we just raided the terrorists assembly area."  
"We?"

"Kate, Hayley and myself."

"Ahh, the three musketeers strike again. So what did you find after the smoke cleared?"

"Sixteen nerve gas cylinders, sixteen virus cylinders and 4 nuclear devices, plus approximately 20 bad guys."

"Nukes?"

"Yep."

"Any idea what they were going to do with them?"

"Not yet, Jordan, you might want to sit down for this next bit of information."

"I am sitting down, give it to me straight."

"All the evidence points to there having been at least two more devices that had already been moved out before we got there."

"Damn! Any idea what the targets might be?"

"No, but we do have some leads and if anyone can put things together, then Kate and Hayley will do it."

Jordan changed the subject, "Rick, the SECDEF is not happy with me."

"And that bothers you?"

"No, actually it's kind of amusing. He keeps complaining that I always find out about national security issues before he does."

Rick chuckled, "That's because you have friends in low places."

"I'll have to remember that line, that's a good one. Is there anything you need from me?"

"No, just giving you a heads up."

"Thanks Rick."

Kate rejoined him as he terminated the call, "Roy is going to take over the investigation until I get back. He'll be here in a half hour or so."

Hayley walked up to the other two. "Javier's on his way."

"Good," he replied. "Now, if you don't mind, I could use some fresh air." Kate startled a bit at that statement, remembering what happened the last time she heard those words from his lips.

"May we come too?" Kate asked. Maybe she and Hayley could help him deal with an episode if it occurred. She held out her hand, and he took it without hesitation. They walked hand in hand back down the north concourse, Hayley trailing by a few paces. They passed through the shattered doorway and Rick spotted a planted area with an 18 inch high brick wall around it that would serve as a seat. He led the women over to it and motioned for them to sit. They removed their helmets and finger combed the tangles out of their hair.

Rick sat quietly until Kate spoke, "Are you all right?"

Rick nodded, "It was too damned close…again. The next time…what if we're just a second late?"

"You think there'll be a next time?" Hayley asked.

"Yeah, I do. Two reasons, first there was enough space in the chests for two more devices. Why buy three chests if you only need two?

"Wait a minute, Rick, are you saying there were two more nukes that we missed?" Kate's hand in his tightened almost painfully.

"No, I'm saying there were at least two more. I'm betting there are other assembly areas just like this; perhaps quite a few of them."

"Oh crap!" Kate and Hayley spoke together, but it was Kate who voiced the inevitable conclusion, "Rick, if there are more of these, then some of the attacks will probably succeed."

"Yep, just because we got lucky in Tampa and the Springs, doesn't mean another city will be as lucky."

Hayley interjected, "You said there were two reasons?"

"Yeah, I did, the second reason is…..well actually, let's see if you two can guess what it is."  
"Okay, Castle you're on," Kate declared and Hayley nodded agreement. "What're the stakes?'

"If you guess, I have to give each of you one of my world famous back rubs. If you can't guess, you both have to wear bikinis to the beach in front of everyone for at least an hour?"

Kate and Hayley traded glances, they were both taking bikinis, so that didn't sound so bad. "Okay, agreed."

"Oh, by the way, there is one stipulation."

"Yes?" they were both skeptical.

"The bikinis will be supplied by me."

"No, no way, I can imagine what that would be like." Kate protested.

"What's the matter, ya chicken?"

Kate looked at her friend who gave her a quick nod, "Okay, you're on, you better bring a lot of your magic rubbing oil, cause you're going to need it."

"Hey, I'm happy, I win either way. I'll give you one hint….did you notice anything unusual about the devices that you looked at?" He sat quietly, with a confident smile as he watched the metaphorical wheels turning in the two women's minds. After a minute or so of consultation they turned to him with a barely suppressed sense of triumph. Oh hang, I shouldn't have let them work together, too much brainpower.

"We thought they would be cruder, kind of homemade maybe. Instead, they looked very industrial, like they were made in a factory."

"You win." He hung his head in mock shame, and the two women grinned delightedly and fist bumped each other. "They were made in a factory, a Russian factory to be precise."

"Russian?"

"Yeah, they are ADM's , atomic demolition munitions, some people refer to them as 'suitcase bombs', but as you saw they're a bit too big to actually fit in a suitcase. Only two nations have had the technological capability to produce them, us and the Soviets. These weren't ours, they are a Soviet design. The Soviets supposedly made around 230 of them, and then when the Soviet Union broke up, around half of them were never accounted for."

Both women went a little pale at the thought of a hundred nuclear devices in the hands of people who were fully prepared to use them. Kate broke the silence, "You think that the ones here were part of the group that went missing?"

"Yes I do. A GRU official who defected claimed that during the Cold War, the GRU stashed caches of weapons, explosives and ADM's near strategic targets to be used in the event of hostilities breaking out between NATO and the Soviet Union. No such cache has ever been found in the U.S., but a couple, minus the nukes, were found in Europe."

"Doesn't the fact that some caches were found and these nukes showed up here kind of establish the validity of his claims?" Kate asked.

"I think so, but we need to find an intact cache before we can be sure."

"Do we have any idea where the caches might be?" Hayley joined in.

"As far as I know, the only locations he gave were in the Shenandoah Valley and the area was searched and nothing was found." The tone of his voice indicated Rick's frustration at the paucity of information."

Kate had an idea, "Rick if we sent one of the devices to the Institute, could your staff of alchemists, wizards and warlocks tell us where the devices were stored?"

He pondered for a moment and then he smiled "I've always said that if Lainiecan't analyze something, it isn't there. Maybe it's time to make good on that boast."

"Now would be a very good time. Can your folks at the Institute work with radioactive material?"

"Of course," looking at her as if she had asked if they could go to the bathroom by themselves. "Besides, we don't need the physics package, just the outer casing."

"Physics package?"

"The part that goes bang." Rick made the call to the NEST team leader and after several minutes of conversation, he hung up smiling. "They'll have two of the casings to us by the end of the week."

"Roy's here," Hayley interjected. They followed her gaze to see a black Tahoe come to a stop at the curb and Roy Montgomery exit the vehicle and head in their direction.

"I'll go brief Roy," Kate volunteered. She met Rick's gaze "Wait for me?"

"Of course." She strode off to meet her boss and they disappeared into the mall, Kate talking animatedly.

Hayley turned to Rick, "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For making my girl happy."

"I sincerely hope so." He said with total conviction.

"You have no idea. Rick, she's been a different person since you came along, I think we're starting to see the real Kate emerge, and I really like what I'm seeing."

"So I don't have to worry about getting shot?" he grinned.

"Only if you stop doing whatever you're doing."

"No danger of that, I'm just getting started."

Something over Rick's shoulder caught her attention and her countenance lit up like the morning sun. Rick turned and saw what he expected, Javier Esposito exiting a Lincoln Navigator and trotting toward them. Hayley met him before he had covered half the distance, and he gathered her into a crushing hug followed by a searing kiss.

Rick chuckled softly, And I thought I was moving fast. Eventually, they came up for air and joined Rick.

The two men clasped forearms, and Javier informed Rick, "I'm jealous, you've gotten to see my girl in action a couple of times now and I haven't got to see it even once. Doesn't hardly seem fair."

"It's a thing of beauty, I assure you." Rick wondered if either of them caught the intentional double entendre. If Hayley's blush and Javier's brilliant grin were any indication, they had. The flat bed truck from the Institute arrived, and Rick excused himself to supervise the loading of the Range Rover and to recover the Valkyrie and the Fire Ants.

When he rejoined the others , Kate had returned and She and Hayley were hugging each other and talking softly to one another. Javier was sitting next to Hayley, holding her hand and rubbing gentle circles on her palm with his thumb.

Rick was pretty sure what was going on. They were experiencing the combination of adrenalin withdrawal and even worse, the effect of having looked into the abyss of nuclear annihilation and confronting their own mortality. To be honest, he was surprised they had made it this long. These were two very tough women. He sat beside Kate, and she moved from Hayley to him, seeking the comfort of his arms.

"Rick, I've never felt like this before, what's wrong with me?" She shivered and her free hand grabbed a fistful of his shirt.

"Sweetheart, there's nothing wrong with you, nukes have that effect on people, that and just the normal adrenalin crash after being shot at and surviving. I remember the first time I ever saw a nuclear warhead in person, it was all I could do to not run screaming from the room.

The image of Rick running screaming from a nuclear warhead caused a tiny smile to appear and a soft laugh escaped easing her tension. It was amazing how Rick always seemed to know exactly what to say to make her feel better. Usually it was some sort of self deprecating humor. Did the man have no ego at all?

She turned back to see how Hayley was coping and smiled when she saw that Javier was talking to her earnestly, but too softly for Kate to hear what was being said. He had his arm around her shoulders protectively, and their heads were leaning in, almost touching. She managed a smile that was almost back to normal, her best friend seemed to be in very good hands.

Rick noticed that Kate was looking up at him through her lashes. This was her shy and mildly embarrassed tell. "Yes?" he prompted gently.

"Rick, Would you mind if I…uh…maybe…uh…stayed with you tonight?" The last few words came out in a rush and she colored slightly. "I just don't feel like being alone after today."

"Sweetheart, you're welcome in my home or in my bed any day or every day should you so choose, there's no need to ask, cause the answer is always going to be yes."

Her heart fluttered a little at his answer and she met his gaze fully, loving the warmth of his eyes that radiated such unconditional love. She tossed her head slightly in Hayley's direction. He understood instantly, noticing that Javier had stopped talking and that the two of them were just sitting quietly. "Javier, Hayley?"

"Yes," they answered simultaneously, turning to face him.

"I was thinking it might be a good idea if the three of you stayed at my place tonight. Just chill a bit, been a long day."

Hayley looked at Kate, who nodded. "I'd love to Rick." Javier just nodded, he had been to Rick's place many times and slept over a few times after a particularly raucous poker night.


	38. Chapter 38

Tampa Tuesday Evening October 11

The Institute's flatbed crunched it's way out of the mall, carrying Rick's battered and bullet-scarred Range Rover. Rick waved the driver on and the truck crossed the parking lot and disappeared into traffic. Kate squeezed Rick's hand as the truck passed out of sight, "I'm sorry about your car. I know how much you liked it."

"It's just a car Kate, I'll get another one."

"Why did you have it taken back to the Institute?"

"Er…there are some accessories that didn't come from the factory, wouldn't want them to fall into the wrong hands."

"Omigod," Kate laughed, "Britney was right, you really are James freakin' Bond."

"Only superficially," he grinned, "I'm strictly a one woman kind of guy and I've got 600 Q's, he's only got one."

"Any woman I know?"

"I don't know, do you know any smokin' hot, kick-ass federal agents with Yale law degrees."

"Just one."

"That must be her then." He stood and pulled her up with him. "Let's get out of here, they don't need us here anymore today. Javier and Hayley stood, and the two couples walked hand in hand to the Institute SUV.

Javier and Rick sat on Rick's deck enjoying a cold Roy Adams and waiting for their ladies. They had dropped the women off at the Bureau to claim Kate's M3 and go to their apartments to pick up their luggage for the night. Javier then drove to his apartment and loaded his luggage into the Navigator.

On the way to Rick's they stopped at his favorite butcher shop and purchased some of their bleu cheese/onion ground sirloin patties. Rick was pretty sure they would all be in the mood for uncomplicated comfort food and nothing fits that description better than a good burger.

"Not to pry my friend," Rick took a long pull on his beer, "but you and Hayley seem to be getting along well."

Javier sighed, "Better than well, really well, but that creates a dilemma?"

"A dilemma?"

"Yeah, how long should you know a woman before you propose?"

"You serious?"

"Dead serious."

"Well, I don't think there's actually a rule or anything. Just whenever you both know you're ready. Kyra and I got engaged a month after we met and most of our friends thought that was pretty quick.

"Do you think Hayley would say yes"  
"I think so."

"So what's holding you back?"

"Well, the age difference for one thing, 16 years is pretty significant."

Rick laughed, "Whats the matter buddy, don't think you can tame a young filly like that?"

"Not funny Rick, sooo…not funny."

"Sorry man, but seriously I think you should leave that up to Hayley, if it doesn't bother her, don't let it bother you. I can actually think of a more significant obstacle."

"Yeah?" Javier looked a little worried.

"Were you going to do the traditional thing and ask her father for her hand?"

"I guess so."

"Do you know who Hayley's father is?"

"No, we haven't really had time to share family histories. So who is he?"

"Captain David Farragut Shipton, USN" Rick informed him with an expectant grin.

"You're kidding, '41 knot Shipton', well now we know how my girl got to be such a kick-ass, it's genetic.

Captain David Farragut Shipton earned his honorific during the Bandar Deylam fiasco. After the USS Wasp recovered the surviving Marines and one unflyable Osprey, its captain had turned south and cracked on full speed, but it still had to run a deadly gauntlet of Iranian missile corvettes and strike aircraft before it reached the Strait of Hormuz. Wasp had put out a desperate call for help, but the fix was in. Just as the marines had been sacrificed, so would USS Wasp die to feed the monster's ambition.

The other U.S. Navy ships in the area, under orders to not enter the Strait, turned a deaf ear. Except for one. 50 nautical miles from Wasp and a sizable chunk of the Iranian Navy, was the Aegis cruiser U.S.S Leyte Gulf under the command of Captain David Farragut Shipton. Receiving Wasp's call, Captain Shipton put his ship on a course to rendezvous with Wasp. Aegis Cruisers have a maximum rated speed of 32 knots and Captain Taylor knew that at that speed, Wasp was unlikely to survive long enough to be rescued.

Calling his engineering officer, he issued the order that would end his career, but secure forever his place in the pantheon of U.S. Navy heroes. "Override all safety interlocks," he snarled at the engineer, "Put everything in the red. I want a minimum of 41 knots or I will personally bust you back to ensign."

An hour later, Wasp had exhausted the ammunition for her Phalanx anti-missile systems and fired her last RAM missiles. The enemy sensed the sudden change and like sharks scenting blood, they came boring in to complete their mission and destroy the big ship with all hands.

Then, at that moment, Leyte Gulf stormed over the horizon like a force 5 hurricane, her big GE marine turbines screaming like the tortured souls of Tartarus as the cruiser streaked past Wasp and pitched in to the enemy flotilla with guns blazing and missiles flying.

It was over quickly, the Iranian flotilla reduced to smoking wreckage by the cruiser's furious onslaught. Captain Shipton paid a high price for doing his duty. The same powers that drove Rick Castle out of the Marines, forced a fighting sailor into early retirement.

However, the law of unintended consequences is inescapable, even for monsters. The injustice inflicted on her father convinced his youngest daughter to decline an appointment to the Naval Academy and take a different path. A path that led to the FBI and a best friend named Kate Beckett.

"So what's Rick's place like?" Hayley's curiosity could not be contained. Kate was concentrating on negotiating the traffic on the Howard Frankland bridge, so it took a minute to frame her answer.

"It's nowhere near as fancy and ostentatious as you might think given his bank account. It's simple, comfortable, warm and inviting. Nothing fancy, but everything in it is the best quality. His kitchen is to die for and the guest suite is absolutely amazing. Just wait until you try the steam shower."

"Steam shower, huh? How many bedrooms?"

"Just two that I know of, the master and the guest bedroom."

"And you don't see a problem?"

"No, I'm sleeping with Rick" Kate grinned to herself "And I'm sure Javier won't mind if you share his bed."

"Kate!" Hayley's reaction was so predictable. "I'm not sure I can handle the platonic snoozing thing you and Rick have going. If I climb in bed with Javier, I'm pretty sure how that would end and I'm not ready for that."

Kate couldn't suppress a snicker, "You're starting to sound like me."

"Yeah, scary isn't it"

"Very," Kate stole a quick sideways glance at her friend who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Don't worry, I'm sure Rick didn't automatically assume you were going to bunk with Javier."

"Kate?" her tone got Kate's attention, "If Rick were to propose tonight, what would you say?"

"Whoa, where'd that come from?" Kate's pulse hammered in her ears, "Do you know something I don't know?"

"No, no, I'm sorry Kate, I'm just speaking hypothetically."

"Oh," disappointment flooded in replacing the high of the moment before. "Then hypothetically, I'd say yes."

"Seriously?'

"Yes, absolutely." She stole another glance at her friend, "Is it possible that the hypothetical me and Rick is the actual Hayley and Javier?"

"Can't sneak anything past you can I?"

"Nope. Javier didn't propose did he?"

"No, I'm just getting a vibe from him that's all. I've never felt it before with any other guy and its kind of scary."

"Do you love him?"

"Is it possible to be in love with someone after one date?"

"You're kidding, right?" Kate choked out.

Hayley laughed, "Oh yeah , I forgot; you're the original 'Nice to meet you-let's get married' girl."

"I'm not that bad,…am I?"

"Not quite, but I'm not the one who made reservations for two in a king-sized bed for a week in the Keys."

"Remember when you told me not to force it, just let it happen naturally?"

"Yeah, I remember, so I should take my own advice?"

"It was good advice, so yes." Kate turned into Rick's driveway, "Well, we're here." They retrieved their overnight bags and Kate led her friend to the garage door that opened into Rick's shop. She input her security code, and the door opened silently. As they walked in, Hayley halted in amazement.

"Kate, what's all this?"

"Rick's woodworking shop."

"Rick does woodworking?"

"Yes, you'll see some of the things he made when we go upstairs. He does amazing work." They climbed the stairs and entered the kitchen, just as Rick was lifting a batch of waffle cut sweet potato fries out of the deep fryer. He dumped them into a serving bowl and sprinkled on some of his favorite spice blend.

"Hope you're okay with burgers and fries for dinner." He asked as he gave Kate a hug and a quick peck on the cheek.

Both women laughed. "If I ever turn down a good burger and fries, you should call 911," Kate declared.

"Me too," Hayley chimed in.

"What can I get you ladies to drink?"

"Beer for me," Kate answered.

"Same here," from Hayley.

"Sam Adams Boston Lager?"

"Perfect," they answered together laughing.

Rick handed the bowl of fries to Kate, "If you'll take this, I'll get the drinks."

"Okay, are we going to eat on the deck?"

"Yeah, the weather's nice, Javier's out there playing grillmaster." Hayley followed Kate through the dining room and out onto the deck. Javier was just sliding the sizzling burgers onto a platter, Hayley took the platter, getting a hug and chaste kiss in the process, while Javier spread some rolls on the grill to toast.

The guys had set the table and prepared all the fixings, soon joined by a platter of perfectly cooked burgers and hot sweet potato chips.

Hayley leaned over and whispered to Kate, "Do you always get spoiled like this?"

Kate gave her friend a rueful smile, "Yeah, pretty much."

"Wow, a girl could get used to this."

"Don't get too carried away, we do have to clean up and do the dishes."

"Small price to pay for a great meal," Hayley shrugged.

Rick arrived with large galvanized bucket full of shaved ice and a dozen bottles of Sam Adams best. He placed the bucket on the deck beside the table and held Kate's chair as she seated herself. Javier seated Hayley before taking his own seat and passing out the burgers. Rick supplied everyone with a cold beverage, and the group settled down to build the perfect burger.

After everyone had eaten, they moved to the two facing wicker love-seats that shared the deck with the dining table. The women instinctively sought the arms of their guys. By common consent the talk avoided the trials of the day and turned to inconsequential things that were nevertheless comforting in their normality.

Whether the Gators or the 'Noles had the best recruiting year, whether a Porsche Carrerra S could hold its own against a Ferrari 348 at Sebring, or which contestant should be the next elimination on Dancing with the Stars. Those and more were discussed, debated and settled. Just four friends enjoying each other's company and subtly celebrating that they had once again cheated death and held back the darkness, if only for a little while.

It was one AM when Rick finally succumbed to a yawn, that quickly proved contagious. It had been a very long and trying day for everyone. "Much as I'm enjoying the conversation, I think it might be a good idea if we call it a night. Long day tomorrow. "Kate, would you mind showing Hayley to the guest suite?

She gave him a bright smile, "Not at all, Rick."

"Javier, you can take the green room if you'd like. Any other locations are strictly up to your negotiating skills." Everyone laughed knowing exactly what Rick was referring to, and causing Hayley to blush slightly." They carried the remnants of the meal in and stacked the dishes in the dishwasher.

Javier retrieved his bag from the den, and headed up the stairs to the green room, which was just across the upstairs hall from the guest suite. Kate and Hayley followed shortly with Hayley carrying her overnight bag.

When Kate returned to the den, Rick was nowhere to be seen, so she shouldered her overnight bag and walked down the hall toward his bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, so she knocked softly and called "Rick, are you decent?

"No," he replied from inside, "But come in any way."

"Rick!"

"It's okay Kate" he chuckled, "come on in." She entered somewhat gingerly, finding him standing in his dressing room in boxers and a t-shirt. She immediately wondered if this was a good idea as a heat bomb seemed to explode in her abdomen.

He turned toward her with a mischievous smile, "Do you want to arm-wrestle for who gets the shower first?"

"No thanks, you go ahead."He disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and she heard the sound of running water.

While Rick was showering, Kate wrestled with her feelings about her decision to spend the night with Rick. Staring into the nuclear abyss had affected her even more than Rick had recognized and there was never a time in her memory that she wanted to spend the night alone less than she did at that precise moment.

On the other hand, she remembered Hayley's comment about the depth of Rick's feelings, and she knew that "platonic snoozing" was not really fair to him. It wasn't even really all that platonic, at least on her part. Probably not on his part either, if you got past his iron self-control.

She started searching through her bag for appropriate sleep wear. Laying aside the dark purple lace camisole set that Hayley had helped her choose on their shopping trip the night before, she picked a simple coffee colored chemise and a pair of boy shorts; trying to give Rick's self-control as much of a break as possible.

She heard the door click open and turned to see Rick walking out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry. He was wearing a pair of training shorts and a sleeveless sweatshirt. She smiled to herself, it looked like he was trying to give her self control a break as well.

"Your turn Sparrow Hawk," he tossed her the towel, and as she passed him he touched her arm gently.

"Would you do something for me?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"When you shower, don't do your hair."

"Huh?" that certainly wasn't what she had been expecting "You like my hair dirty and greasy?"

"No," he replied with a wink. "I want to do it for you."

"Rick Castle, you are not getting in the shower with me!"

"Didn't say anything about getting in the shower, I'll do it at the sink"

"Are you serious?"

"I never joke about shampoo."

"Of course you don't," she giggled, "Okay Castle you're on. What do you want me to do?"

"When you finish showering, there's a terry robe on the back of the door, put that on over your sleep things and call me."

Kate could hardly enjoy the shower, her mind kept going back to incredible foot massage that had been her introduction to the magic in his fingertips. A shampoo somehow seemed even more intimate, and her breath caught in her throat in anticipation. She finished her shower much faster than her normally languid efforts. It would not be entirely fair to say that she rushed through the rest of her preparations, but there was precious little wasted time before she slipped on the robe and belted it tightly. Opening the door to call Rick, she startled slightly to find him leaning against the wall outside.

"I heard the shower cut off," he offered in explanation for his presence.

"Is that some kind of medieval torture device?" she indicated the contraption he was carrying. "Oooh," he said, "I didn't know you liked the kinky stuff!"

"Rick!" her glare failed to stop him from stepping past her with his burden.

"It's a portable massage table," he informed her as he started to set it up next to the sink. His purpose became apparent as he adjusted the head end to the same level as the edge of the sink and dropped the foot end a few inches so she wouldn't feel like the blood was rushing to her head. She had moved to his side as he assembled the table, so he quickly grasped her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly, sitting her on the apparatus.

"Now, just lay back and relax sweetheart, I've got this." One again, his powerful yet gentle hands did their magic, and soon, Kate was so relaxed, that she was fighting to stay awake. When he was finished, he wrapped her hair in a towel and helped her to sit up. She tried to scoot off the table, but her legs felt like spaghetti cooked well beyond al dente.

"God, Rick, what did you do to me?" she marveled.

"Just a massive dose of pampering sweetheart, did it work?

"If 'worked' means rendering me incapable of walking, then I would say it worked."

He laughed, "It'll wear off in a minute." Somehow she made it to the vanity, and picked up her hair dryer. While she was starting her nightly ritual, Rick folded the massage table and carried it away. The robe had gotten a little damp, so she took it off and hung it back on its hook behind the door. Returning to the vanity, she leaned over the sink to wash her face. A soft knock caught her attention, "Kate, are you decent?"

"No, but come in any way" she chuckled to herself as she leaned over to rinse. Eyes closed, she fumbled for the hand towel, and jerked upright with a gasp as a familiar hand guided hers to the object of her search.

"Rick! What are you doing in here?"

"Uh…You told me to."

"I didn't mean for you to actually do it! It was a joke like before when you told me that."

"Kate, I wasn't joking before."

"Oh, and I guess you weren't checking me out while you were sneaking up on me?"

"I did not sneak up on you, I just naturally move quietly, force of habit I guess. As to the first accusation, guilty as charged, I conducted a very thorough 'checking out', very thorough indeed."

"And?"she demanded, feeling the heat rise to her face.

He grinned, "Let's just say that it's a good thing I have a strong heart."

On impulse, she stepped into him and his arms instinctively pulled her into a hug. "Just how strong is your heart anyway Mr. Castle?" she asked looking up trough her lashes.

"Very. I was kind of hoping you'd help me test the limits."

"Mr. Castle, you can take that one to the bank!" Without thinking, he scooped her up and carried her bridal style towards the bedroom. She squealed in surprise and started to resist, but her heart overruled her head for once, telling her that this was exactly where she needed to be at this moment.

Rick felt her relax, and smiled as she tucked her head under his chin and brought her free hand up to grasp his neck. A few quick strides brought them to the bed and he placed her down almost reverently and released her with obvious reluctance.

It seemed an eternity to Kate before he had turned off the lights and slid beneath the covers on the opposite side of the bed. The attraction between them was irresistible and they met in the center of the bed.

Rick was mildly surprised when she threw her arm across his chest and melted into his side. She sensed his surprise and murmured softly, "You know we're going to end up like this, so why waste time?"

"No argument from me, Sparrow Hawk.

Wednesday Morning October 12

Kate slowly drifted into wakefulness, feeling supremely warm and deliriously comfortable. Rick was still asleep and she lifted her head slightly to squint across his chest at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 6:00, still too early to get up.

She studied his features, thinking that he looked much younger when he was relaxed. Awake, he always seemed to be carrying some invisible burden, and one who knew him well could see the strain in the set of his eyes and the tightness at the corners of his mouth. Last night, with Hayley and Javier had been the first time she had seen him truly relaxed, and that seemed to have carried over through the night. He had not suffered another nightmare and her own sleep had been deep and restful. This could be very habit-forming she thought sighing happily.

A faint noise from the den caught her attention, someone was stirring and something told her it was her best friend. Curiosity got the best of her and she decided to go investigate. Easier said than done she realized when she tried to move away. Rick's arm around her waist tightened instinctively and she found their legs were entangled in a veritable Gordian knot of solid muscle and smooth, soft flesh.

She twisted to try to extricate herself and Rick started awake, "Kate, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, "I just need to go get something to drink, and I think Hayley may need me. Go back to sleep" She freed herself and belted on her robe as she left the room. Entering the den, she saw Hayley sitting on one of the couches with her knees drawn up to her chin. Kate sat next to her friend, noticing the tear tracks on her cheeks. "What's wrong girlfriend?"

Hayley sobbed softly, "I love him."

"Whoa girl, you lost me, isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes, but he probably hates me now."  
"Wow, why don't you start at the beginning and tell me exactly what happened?"

"I had a terrible nightmare about the bombs, he heard me and came and woke me up and held me while I tried to calm down."

"That sounds sweet," Kate was a bit puzzled.

"It was, except I was half asleep, and really scared….and I kind of came onto him…really strong."

"What did he do?"  
"He said no, that if we ever had a first time, he wanted it to be special, not because I was freaked out because of a nightmare."

"I'm still not seeing the major problem here."

"He probably thinks I'm some kind of cheap floozy!"

"I'm almost positive that's not the case…." Kate looked up to see Javier standing a few feet behind the couch, his face registering total shock. "I think I'll go make some coffee,"

Hayley nodded despondently as Kate rose and walked toward the kitchen. As she passed Javier, she gave his arm a slight squeeze and nodded toward Hayley. Entering the kitchen, she glanced back to see Javier kneeling in front of the couch, holding Hayley's hands and talking earnestly. Kate smiled, her friend was in good hands.

She quickly brewed two mugs of coffee and carried them to the den, by this time, Javier had migrated to the couch and the two were leaning into each other and Javier was gently stroking her hair. She set the two mugs on the coffee table and they acknowledged her offering with happy smiles


	39. Chapter 39

Please, no pitchforks and torches. This will all make sense, but it will get worse before it gets better.

 **Shanghai Peoples Republic of China Wednesday October 12**

The man known to others as "the Czar" slammed a thick manila file folder onto the top of his desk and raised his gaze to the man seated across from him.

"This is an ambitious plan, Laszlo." He fixed the other man with a basilisk gaze. "You weren't nearly as successful in the preliminary attacks as I had expected. This had better work, for your sake. Much depends on Sergei and his ability to suborn the woman."

"Yes, I understand..He's never failed to seduce one he sets his sights on. My contacts tell me that Castle is quite smitten with her. This is the best opportunity to take him down and that infernal organization of his. The woman first, then the dominoes will fall."

The Czar bestowed a marrow-chilling glare on his companion. "I am sending Colonel Tyurin's Spetsnaz Battalion as backup. If you fail then he will take care of two problems at once.

Laszlo's Adam's apple bobbed convulsively as he swallowed. Laszlo Vukovic was not a man easily intimidated. Twenty years in the Serbian secret police and five years as the Czar's number one enforcer had hardened him almost beyond human recognition. Love, pity, compassion was as foreign to him as they were to his overlord. Which is to say foreign indeed.

The one human emotion that was ensconced in his psyche was fear, and even that was limited to two individuals: The Czar himself and one Richard Castle. He and Rick had crossed swords before and always to his detriment. This time would be different. Laszlo had compiled an extensive dossier on Richard knew his weakness – the people that surrounded him and his company. Now, he would take those from the man. Sergei would take the woman he loved, no woman had ever resisted his charms and other more esoteric skills. Then Laszlo would finally have his vengeance. Richard Castle's friends and his life's work would be wiped away. Then he would kill him.


	40. Chapter 40

Somewhere in Canada's Yukon Territory Sunday Morning October 23

Kate groaned inwardly as another burst of turbulence tossed her roughly to the limits of her shoulder harness before snatching her back into the nylon webbing of her assigned jump seat. The rudimentary seat offered no great measure of comfort, but at least it kept her from bashing about the interior of the cabin when the speeding helicopter made another of its periodic wild lurches. The crew chief paid her no mind, his nose buried in some paperback work of literature that featured copious amounts of skin festooned with deadly looking firearms on the cover.

She glanced toward the front of the cabin, where the two pilot's attended to the business of getting her to her destination and the object of her pursuit. It still seemed, after two hours of flight, somewhat disquieting to trust her slender frame to military pilots whose flight suits displayed the red maple leaf of Canada, and not the Stars and Stripes. The pilot, a calm competent seeming man named Collins if she remembered correctly, turned suddenly and flashed her a brief smile followed by the fingers of his right hand, three flashes, and she understood, 15 minutes to go.

Depending on the attendant circumstance, fifteen minutes can seem like the merest tick of the clock, or eons of geologic time. In Kate's case, it was definitely tilted heavily toward the dragging on interminably side of the continuum as her mind plumbed the glacial coldness of her soul, reliving again the horror, the gut wrenching tragedy of the previous two weeks. And it was all her fault. Her twice damned obsession with her "independence", her compulsive need to demonstrate that she needed no one, and certainly not a man. Well, she had always been good at talking the talk. Now she must walk the walk, for she was truly and demonstrably independent at last. She had no one.

Hayley had practically spit in her face in the ER at Tampa General on the night of the incident and they hadn't spoken since. The attorney general had informed her that she would be happy to accept Kate's resignation from the Bureau should she choose to submit it, Vienna had made it perfectly clear that only a court order would get her in to see Rick while he was in the hospital and Rick Castle…well aside from being shot, falling from a 3rd floor balcony, waking up from a coma after four days, to being charged with murder and becoming a fugitive from justice, everything was just fine.

To add the proverbial insult to injury, she received a text from Vienna just before boarding the helicopter, that the Russian Federation had filed a wrongful death lawsuit in Tampa on behalf of the recently deceased Sergei Alexeyev. On the way out of the courtroom the Russian attorney dropped a hint that Rick's one-third share in something called the Orion Institute might just possibly be considered adequate compensation for the loss of one of the Federation's outstanding scientists and all-around good guys.

The tone of the text was not what an objective observer would call warm and friendly. Being more in the vein of "Now look what you've done" and overlaid with "What the hell do you plan to do about it?"

What the (expletive of choice) have you done? How many times had she been asked that question over the past week? Thousands of times? Hundreds at least. How many times had that question been formed in her own tortured mind? A hell of a lot. It was pretty much all she had thought about since her world came apart. 


	41. Chapter 41

**Tampa FBI Field Office Sunday Morning October 23**

Javier Esposito knocked tentatively on the door to Hayley's office and swallowed abruptly when she looked up. He hadn't seen her in person for over a week and she still looked like she had that horrible night. Her normally luscious burnt caramel skin seemed pale and stretched too thinly over her bones, as if she hadn't eaten in some time. Her normally lustrous hair hung lifeless over her left shoulder.

"Come in," she nodded toward one of the guest chairs. "I know what you're thinking," She stated as he settled into the chair.

"Er...You do?"

"You think I look like crap, and while I agree with you, I think it only fair to point out that you don't look all that much better."

Javier chuckled grimly. "This is officially the worst week of my life, so I haven't had time for fashion and grooming."

"What day is it?" Hayley asked suddenly.

"Sunday, when did you last eat?"

"Wednesday, I think, or maybe Tuesday. It just all seems a blur."

He nodded knowingly, "Before we get down to business, I'm taking you out for breakfast."

"No…Javi, you don't have…."

"I'm not prepared to take no for an answer." He declared.

"Okay, I'll go." She stood and followed him out the main entrance. "There's a café down this way," she said pointing to the north, "they have amazing breakfasts, Kate and I used to go…" The tears started and sobs racked her body as she let go for the first time and Javier took her in his arms.

"It's okay to cry sweetheart," he spoke. "You've been through hell in the last week, so just let it go, and get it out of your system."

After some minutes, she looked up, "It has to have been just as rough on you too, and do you need a good cry?"

"Tough guys like me," he flashed her a sliver of a grin as he thumped his chest, "We cry on the inside, so it doesn't ruin our image." Then he looked her in the eye and spoke so softly that she would have missed it had she not still been wrapped up in his embrace. "My mother is on the edge of a breakdown, Vienna alternates between thoughts of committing seppuku to thoughts of hunting down Kate and beheading her with one of those damn samurai swords of hers."

What does your mother have to do with this situation?" Hayley asked with a puzzled expression.

"Oh sorry you don't know yet. My mom, Kathy Esposito, is Rick's executive assistant; has been since he started Orion. She mothers him something fierce. He won't admit it. But I think he likes it."

"Wow, that's good to know. I'd like to meet her some time."

"Of course," he paused. Now, I'm very concerned about Rick. He wasn't really well when he escaped, but if they get on his trail, every instinct will be pushing him to strike back, to turn on the ones who are following him."

"Would he take on federal officers?" She asked as she stepped gently out of his arms.

"Rick? Hell yes, especially if he's hurt and sick and alone."

"Oh, damn."

"What? They're not sending you after him are they?" Javier asked, his concern ratcheting upward.

"No, nothing like that. Come on, let's eat. Then we'll talk."

Half way into a large order of French toast, Hayley noticed Javier regarding her with a grave smile. "I told you, I haven't eaten anything but Gummy Bears for almost a week."

"What got your blood pressure up outside?" he asked.

Hayley pushed her plate back a couple of inches as if she needed plenty of room to deal with the information she was about to share. "My boss put Kate on administrative leave last Monday. Indefinite administrative leave."

"Is that bad?"

"It is if you're planning on a long and productive career in the Bureau, It's tantamount to being told to look for another job."

"Ouch, how'd she take it?"

"That's the first piece of evidence, she hardly reacted at all."

"And the second piece of evidence?"

"She disappeared."

"Disappeared?"

"She hasn't been back to her apartment since Wednesday a week, and she obviously hasn't been at Rick's, so where did she go?

"No idea," Javier responded, "So what did you do then?"

"I started looking for her. Fortunately she wasn't really trying very hard, so it didn't take that long to find her. She was at the library doing research."

"Do you know what she was looking into?"

"Rick."

"She was trying to dig up dirt on Rick?" Javier's chair went clattering to the floor as he lunged to his feet in indignation, "Hasn't she done enough damage?"

"Javier, sit down and listen to me," Hayley soothed with a gentle hand on his arm

"All right," he grumped as he righted his chair and resumed his seat "But if this is going to be a Rick bashing session…"

"Javier, I like Rick, I'm not interested in hurting him anymore," she stated. "But, I've been doing a little free-lance investigating on my own and there are so many loose ends that it's kind of depressing. What happened was so bizarre and out of character, at least for Kate that I just want to understand." A traitorous tear escaped and trailed down her cheek unheeded and she peered at him imploringly, "I just want to understand, not to excuse or condone, but just to understand. will you help me?"

His brow furrowed as he considered the request. At first he was tempted to decline; Hayley was Kate's best friend after all, and he wasn't quite sure she would be able to remain objective. But, then again Hayley was reputed to be a world-class investigator and he didn't want to even think about what Vienna would do to him if he didn't utilize every resource available to find Rick.

"Okay," he finally agreed.

Hayley smiled and wriggled the hand resting on Javier's forearm until their fingers were intertwined,. "Thank you. I just hope we can make some sense of this mess."

"Yeah, you want to go back to your office and get started?"

"So, where do we start?" Javier asked as he sat beside Hayley's desk.

"I think we should put together a timeline." Hayley responded confidently. "I've been thinking about it and it seems that things had started to deteriorate a bit between Rick and Kate even before the incident. There must have been a triggering event of some kind, the pebble that started the landslide."

"I don't know what happened, but I think I know when." Javier interjected.  
"Yeah? gonna share?"

"The Wednesday after you took down the terrorists at the old mall. The day after we stayed the night. "He said thoughtfully. "Rick came to work that morning, almost euphoric, maybe even giddy. "

"Not a normal occurrence?" Hayley grinned.

"No, Rick is pretty reserved most of the time."

"So what revved his engine?"

"Kate."

"So you and Rick were gossiping about Kate?"

"No, no, Rick never talks about that stuff. I just got that impression from what we did later that morning."

"And?"

"On the way back from lunch, he asked if we could stop and do some shopping."

"Where?"

"Tiffany's"

"THE Tiffany's"

"Yep."

"Ya gonna tell me what you bought."

"Yeah, Rick bought a ring."

"A ring?" Hayley exclaimed, not expecting something so personal, "You mean like an…?"

"An engagement ring, about 2 carats, emerald, simple but elegant."

"But Javi, that doesn't really seem like a trigger for, you know, everything?

"It's not." he agreed. "But it is an important data point for what happened that night."

"Kate was pretty upbeat that morning as well, at least until…"

"Until what?" Javier asked leaning forward and resting his elbows on her desk.

"Kate got into an altercation in the break room with a senior agent from another department. Casey, the worthless bitch, wanted to know if Kate was Rick's mistress and what the going rate for her favors was. Then she accused Kate of being a 'gold-digging slut."

"And Kate didn't kick her ass?"

"Ho," Hayley shook her head sadly. "She kind of choked up and ran out. She wouldn't talk about it the rest of the day."

"I think I can imagine what happened when she got to Rick's place that night."

"Yeah, me too. What was Rick's demeanor on Thursday morning?"

"Cold, distant, short temper, almost took my head off when I asked him when he was giving Kate the ring."

"Kate was pretty down as well. Rick always sent her a little message at 8 am. Sometimes a song, sometimes a photo or maybe a short poem that he wrote."

"Dayum, Rick a hopeless romantic, who would've thought it?" Javier chuckled.

"It was sweet." Hayley protested. "But on Thursday morning, she sat at her desk staring at her phone for like 40 minutes and the message never came. Then she got up and muttered something about them all being the same. She went to the ladies' room and stayed for ten or fifteen minutes. I'm pretty sure she was crying."

"I wonder why he didn't send the message." Javier mused. "Was he saying he was done with her?"

"Not quite maybe, but close. Javi, it all makes more sense now since you told me about the ring. Rick was vulnerable, his emotions had to be running high and his nerves tingling with anticipation. Then Kate rolls in on one of her mads and POW."

"Do you think he was going to propose that night?"

"No, Friday. He asked Kate out on a date for Friday night. But she told him she had a previous engagement. She was in the Catholic Charities fundraiser auction."

"So why didn't Rick go with her?"

Hayley sighed, "He offered to. Said he would just outbid anyone who fancied a dinner date with her."

"I take it she didn't see that as a win-win."

"No, she forbade him to come. She said it would be cheating."

"Definitely a body shot, but still doesn't seem serious enough to trigger all that happened."

"I agree; my money is on what happened after they went to bed."

"Do I really need to know about this," Javier asked with a groan.

"You do," Hayley admonished him sternly, "Because I think that was the linchpin of this whole mess. Everything before pointed forward to that moment and everything after flowed naturally from it."

"Okay, okay, what happened?"

"Kate woke up in the middle of the night and found that while they were sleeping, Rick's hand had somehow maneuvered its way under her shirt and was…ummm...cupping her breast."

"Rick copped a feel in his sleep!?"

Hayley shook her head, "You really are all the same."

"Play nice, so how did Kate react?"

"Badly. From the tidbits she told me, she basically kicked him out of bed, which led to a lot of screaming, smacking and kicking; all from her aimed at Rick. Then she stormed out and called me to come pick her up. Rick tried to call on her cell while we were driving back to her apartment."

"What did he say?"

"Don't know, she refused the call. I don't believe they had anymore contact until Friday night immediately preceding the incident."

"Anything else happen Thursday?" Javier asked.

"Not during work, but after work Kate asked me to help her pick out a dress for the charity auction."

"Was that significant?"

"Not that she asked me to help, I do that all the time. But there were a couple of unusual aspects that now seem like important facts."

"Yes?" Javier prompted.

"First was how much she spent on the dress. Kate is by no means poor, but she is extremely frugal. Normally she might spend $200 to $300 on a dress for a special occasion. The dress she finally picked out, cost $1500. I might have expected her to do that for a date with Rick, but not for a charity event where she was going alone."

"Go on. Javier prompted.

"Well, the biggest thing was the dress itself. It was beyond hot, bordering on indecent."

"Indecent?"

"As in backless, strapless thin, clingy, yada, yada."

"Slightly off topic," Javier grinned "What kind of underwear does a woman wear under one of those things anyway?"

"She doesn't," Hayley smirked "At least not if she has the body for it."

"And Kate does, I presume."

"Oh yeah, she totally rocked it. If she walks into a room with 20 guys, at least half of them are going to need CPR."

"Sounds like she might have been trying to send a message."

"What message" Hayley scoffed, "Please don't keep your hands to yourself?"

"Yeah, something like that. Kind of the exact opposite of the message she had been sending Rick since they met."

"I think it's starting to come together," Hayley suddenly burst out, slapping the table open-palmed, with enough force that Javier startled. "Kate was on a mission, Javier, a mission to prove that she's not a kept woman. That she's independent and needs no one, especially Rick.


	42. Chapter 42

Somewhere in Canada's Yukon Territory Sunday October 23

"Rick, wake up!" The sweet voice and gentle hand shaking his shoulder gradually pierced the fog of too many pain-killers, too much bourbon, too much trauma and too little sleep. The bone marrow deep depression that clawed at his soul with venomous talons wasn't helping either. After a minute, he mustered his forces and opened his eyes for a few seconds.  
"Kayla?"  
"Hi, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?" the woman asked with the irrepressible cheerfulness that was a hallmark of her personality.  
"I can remember being better," he said, trying to focus on the face that was peering at him and developing a bit of a frown.  
"Rick, did you take any of the antibiotics I left you Wednesday?"  
"Ye…maybe…I don't know."  
"Well, considering that I left you six capsules and there are still five in the envelope. Rick this is serious. It's bad enough that I'm helping you hide from the authorities, now you're asking me to violate the Hippocratic oath by not hauling your sorry ass down to the Red Wolf hospital and locking you into ICU for a couple of weeks." She stuck a thermometer in his ear and waited for the chime. "You have a 102 fever, and your breath sounds are diminished. I think you may be coming down with pneumonia,"  
At least she doesn't know I've been coughing up blood.  
"Rick, have you been coughing up blood?"  
Damn "Maybe once or twice" he acknowledged.  
"Per hour?"  
"I don't know Kayla, fairly often."  
"Sit up," she ordered, "Let me check the wound." She lifted his shirt and gingerly removed the dressing. A nauseating stench swirled across the room and Kayla wrinkled her nose. "Rick are you trying to kill yourself?"  
"Why not? Nothing to live for." The brutal whip-crack of a slap echoed in the small bedroom. "What did you do that for?" he asked with mingled indignation and surprise. Kayla did not often resort to violence.  
"Because I love you Rick Castle and if I'm going to be here, then you're going to fight. You're going to fight for life. You have everything to live for. Everyone loves you Rick."  
"Not everyone," He muttered. Then he met her gaze and forced out a shuddering breath, "I'll fight, word of honor."  
"All right, then, let's get you to the shower." Rick passed out twice in the dozen or so steps to the cabin's single bathroom. But he never hit the floor as Kayla pinned him to the wall and supported his weight. Sturdy little woman he thought admiringly after the crashing waves of pain claimed him for the second time. He somehow fought off the raging pain beast and finally stood gasping for breath in the shower stall. "What now?"  
"Strip," she ordered.  
"Kayla…" he protested.  
"Rick, the gunshot wound has developed an abscess and I need to drain it, it's going to be incredibly messy. So just shut up and get it done. I've seen naked men before." She grinned wickedly, "In fact, I've seen you naked and just between the two of us, it wasn't all that exciting."  
"I think I represent that remark," he grumped as he struggled to shed his clothing while maintaining at least a semblance of dignity. "And when did you..."  
"You and Kyra, skinny dipping…"  
"In the creek." He finished, "you saw that? I'm surprised you weren't scarred for life."  
"A couple of months of counseling, that's all." She turned fully to face him, a liter bottle of sterile saline in her left hand and a triceratops sized syringe in the other. "This is going to hurt you more than it hurts me."

Thirty minutes later a squeaky clean Rick was back in his bed, watching Kayla bustling around gathering up soiled clothing and bed linens for a load of laundry. The pain was still hovering just inside the teeth gritting range, but was ebbing steadily. "Damn Kayla that hurt like a sumbitch. I've been tortured by professionals and that was nothing compared to this."  
"Maybe you'll take your antibiotics this time," she grinned.  
"Count on it."  
"Seriously Rick, if you're not dramatically improved by the time I come back on Wednesday, I'm calling the Mounties and turning you in." She'd do it too, not just as his doctor, but his favorite cousin. Castle to the core and thus not a purveyor of idle threats.  
"It's a good thing Charlie didn't walk in on us in the shower."  
"Not a problem," She blushed slightly. "My husband trusts me. More importantly he trusts you."  
"Maintainer of ladies' virtue. Seemingly my lot in life."  
"There are worse things to be renowned for." She chided gently.  
"Yeah, like that bastard Alexyev."  
"The man you killed?"  
I didn't kill him, he fell, it was an accident."  
"What's his thing?"  
"Professional despoiler of women, and he likes to start by tenderizing them a bit."  
"Huh?"  
"When you make your justly famous veal scaloppini, what's the first step?"  
"You take your veal cutlets and beat the bejeebers out of them…." Her hand went suddenly to her throat and her eyes went wide. "My God, Rick. He beat them?"  
"Yeah, quite a few of them, it seems."  
"Why didn't they report it?"  
"Don't know, shame, fear, bribery, who knows?"  
"I'm glad he's dead." She stated with fierce disdain.  
"Me too."  
"Your girl hooked up with him?"  
"Yeah, I guess I wasn't good enough for her and he was." He suddenly stiffened and his eyes took on a faraway look.  
"What is it, Rick?"  
"Helicopter, circling about a mile out. " He struggled to stand, hissing in pain. "Quick help me on to the front porch." Somehow they made it without him fainting again and he stood leaning on the railing, listening intently. "Westland Cormorant from the sound of it. That means Canadian military."  
"Who do you think it is?"  
"Depends, if they just want me dead, then it's likely a sniper team. If they want to haul me back to stand trial, then probably a spec ops team of some sort."  
"I don't hear it anymore." She observed.  
"No, it landed down by the lake." "Kayla, get your stuff and get out of here, now." "But Rick…."  
"Now, Kayla. I won't argue with you about doctor stuff, and you don't argue with me about soldier stuff."  
"Okay" she relented and started to gather her things.  
"Leave it." He ordered, "Just get on your snow machine and go like hell." He turned suddenly looking into the distance. "They just took off and headed south at high speed."  
"Isn't that good," she asked innocently.  
"It means they dropped off passengers."  
"Oh, if they see me will they shoot at me?"  
"Probably not, these are Canadians, not Huns." He kissed her briefly on the forehead. "Now if you don't get going, I'll shoot you."  
Kayla ran to the vehicle and fired the engine. She coaxed it into gear and with a wave she raced down the northern path and disappeared into the forest surrounding Rick's cabin. The snow covered conifers dampened the sound considerably and the engine sounds faded away quickly.


	43. Chapter 43

"Thanks," Hayley smiled up at Javier as he slid a fresh cup of coffee in front of her and resumed his seat beside her desk.

"Where were we?" he asked.

"Well, Kate left my place at seven for the Auction wearing her 'Buy me – I want to get laid' dress and then you picked me up at eight and we went to the bar at the Europa for drinks while we waited for our dinner reservation." She paused and choked back a sob, "I almost wish we had gone somewhere else. Maybe Rick would still be with us. But then again, what terrible things might have happened to Kate in Alexyev's suite, if you and Rick hadn't crashed his party."

"Hayley?"

She lifted her head, meeting his gaze with unshed tears shimmering in her eyes.

"You sure you want to go on? I know you know the broad outline of what happened next, but there are a lot of details that only Rick and I know, and Kate I guess. They're not pretty."

Hayley nodded, "One of the things they taught us at the Academy was to follow the evidence, no matter where it leads, OMNIA VINCIT VERITAS, truth conquers all. I might find something that was overlooked, something that will prove that this whole mess is somehow different than what it appears to be.

"Tall order." Javier observed soberly.

She returned a bleak smile, "I know, but somehow I feel that it's not over yet."

"Well then, forth into the darkness." Javier nodded at her to continue.

"About 8:30 Kate waltzed in with her buyer and went into the restaurant. It's not really normal for the auction and the date to happen on the same night, but I found out later that Alexyev told her he had to leave the next morning and wouldn't be back for a month or so. I guess he wanted the dividends on his $100k investment paid out immediately."

"I had my back to the action at that point," Javier offered, "but why didn't Kate see you?" ` "She only had eyes for Alexyev. She didn't take her eyes off him for a millisecond until Rick walked in. Granted, he was a looker, but too pretty by half. In my experience, pretty boys are always bad news."

"Except for me?" Javier asked with a cheeky grin.

"Javier Esposito, you are not a pretty boy. Distinguished, dashing, ruggedly handsome man – yes, but never a pretty boy."

"I can live with that." He leaned over to give her a quick peck on the cheek. "So was that when you pulled out your tablet."

"Uh huh, I thought I recognized him from some briefing or other, so I did a quick search and pulled up his arrest record. Sergei Alexyev is the Consul General at the Russian consulate in Miami and one of their shining stars in science. I think he only holds the consular job in order to get diplomatic immunity.

He's been arrested seventeen times in the last two years but never charged." She leaned forward "Every one of those arrests were for sexual assault or sexual battery. I saw the pictures of some of the victims, Javi, whip marks, electrical burns, cigarette burns, bruises, broken bones….."

"So you tried to call Kate?"

"Yes, either she didn't have her phone or it was turned off. Cause she didn't answer."

"So you called Rick?"

"Yeah I knew they were in a tough place, but I thought that he would still come."

"You're kidding right?" he chuckled, "Rick is hard-wired to protect a woman in trouble; whether it's a girlfriend that's cheating on him or a random woman on the street. He would always come. One question though, why didn't you and I walk over and try to talk her down?"

"I guess I just thought she might be more willing to listen to him. Not one of my better strategic moves. Anyway, about 15 minutes later Rick calls me and said that he was just walking into the lobby. You went to meet him and pointed out where Kate and the jerk were sitting."

"I knew the moment that I saw Rick, I knew that there was going to be trouble," Javier grimaced a bit at the memory, "he had that icy death stare of his and I thought about trying to stop him, but it would have been a waste of effort. So he brushed past and strode up to the table. Kate was giving Alexyev every 'I'm so into you' signal that's ever been identified. And Rick's posture got straighter and more rigid with every step. There were a couple of verbal exchanges. I don't know what was said but it devastated Rick"

"I know what was said." Hayley sat staring down at her desktop.

"Huh…what…how?"

"Rick didn't end the call before he put his phone back in his pocket. I heard the whole thing."

"I may be mistaken Agent Shipton," Javier spoke slowly and carefully, "But I don't believe that information appears in your official statement."

"No it doesn't" she admitted. "They took my statement just after we got to the hospital that night and we weren't even very hopeful that Rick was going to make it. I guess withholding that info was my way of fighting for Rick. They were already making him out to be some psycho monster driven mad by jealousy. I just couldn't help them do it. Unlike Kate's statement."

Javier nodded, "It's okay, I'm not judging, but I don't think you should make this a habit."

"No, never."

"Okay, so what was said?"

"Rick walked up and said something like "We need to leave." Her response was there was no we, so maybe he should leave. "Then you need to leave, this man is not what he seems, he's dangerous."

Javier did not like the direction this was heading in. What did she say then"

"That Alexyev was the kind of man she should be with, and that Rick should quit being a 'boorish hillbilly clodhopper' and leave and let her get on with her evening. He tried one more time and asked her if that was what she truly wanted. She answered that it was, and that he should go because he was embarrassing her.

Javier sat frozen, heart hammering its way out of his chest. "Please tell me she didn't really say that?"

"You think I made it up?" Hayley spluttered with indignation.

"NO, no, I was just pleading with the universe to make her have said something else. Hayley, she couldn't have said a more hurtful, devastating, and hateful thing if she had practiced for weeks."

"That he was embarrassing her?"

"No, the boorish, hillbilly clodhopper thing."

"For real?"

"Hayley let me tell you of the demon that Rick lives with constantly. Kyra came from a very upper crust old-money family, and they hated Rick. They constantly reminded him that he was not of their class, that he was not good enough for their daughter. I think they even burned the bed linens and bought new ones every time he stayed over. He put up with it for the entire three years they were together, but he finally snapped. It was at a posh dinner party to publicly announce their engagement. One of those things with 27 courses and a special set of silverware for each course."

"Let me guess, he used the wrong spoon?" Hayley ventured.

"Actually, I think it was a fork, but the point is that Kyra's mother stands up in front of everyone and says that this boorish hillbilly clodhopper was ruining their daughter's life and why didn't he go hang out with his own kind."

"Damn, I see what you mean."

"Wait, it gets worse." Javier stated. "Rick walked out, packed his bags and flew off to New York to stay with his sister. Several weeks later Kyra flew to New York to tell him she was pregnant.

They kissed and made up and everything was good until she demanded that he come back to California. He refused, and she got on the plane alone. You pretty much know the rest of the story.

But Rick blames himself and his pursuit of a woman above his station for her death. He totally bought into the drivel that deep down he wasn't good enough for a classy woman like Kyra."

"But... but ...Javier it's the exact opposite," she cried out passionately. "Rick is one of the three most amazing, wonderful men on the face of the planet! What woman could possibly be good enough for him?"

"Three huh, care to elaborate?" Javier smirked.

Hayley blushed, "Rick, my dad, and some Javier guy. But the jury's still out on him."

"Wow, pretty august company." He grinned and leaned across for a kiss.

"Ahem." A discrete cough at her door interrupted their moment.

Hayley jerked back abruptly, regarding the red-faced rookie agent at the door with a look that was not exactly a glare but was distinctly lacking in warmth. "What is it Roger?"

The young man held out a large manila envelope, about an inch thick. "Here are the files you requested Agent Shipton."

"Oh, that was quick. Thank you Roger."

"No problem, ma'am. Would you be needing me for anything else?"

"No, head on home and enjoy the rest of your weekend."

Javier reached for the envelope, but Hayley gently pushed his hand away, "Let's finish the timeline first and then we'll check this out."

"Okay, Rick brushed past me on the way out and he looked like a man that had just been told he has twenty four hours to live. I've seen Him in some incredibly bleak situations, but he was always the type to go down fighting and snarling to the last breath, but what I saw in his eyes that night was complete and utter defeat. He had given up."

"That was when Kate and Alexyev decided to take their party upstairs to his suite, I guess she wanted to avoid any future embarrassment." Hayley commented bitterly. "I'd lost my appetite, so I left to look for you and Rick, there was another man talking to the two of you. What was that all about?"

"He was the concierge. He told us the same thing you did earlier. That women who went up to Alexyev's suite didn't always leave under their own power, nor entirely intact. That seemed to put some steel back into Rick. He looked at me and said that he was going to bring her out whether she liked it or not. He charged off to the reception desk and demanded to know what Alexyev's room number was.

The night manager refused. Rick reached into his jacket pocket and tossed his Marshall badge onto the countertop. The manager refused again, saying unless we had a warrant, he couldn't help us."

"That's when Rick pulled his gun?" Hayley noted. "I saw that part as I was walking up."

"Yep, it's amazing how persuasive the business end of a .45 is when it's two inches from your face."

"What did the manager do?"

Javier laughed, "First he peed his pants and then he gave Rick the passcode for the private elevator to Alexyev's suite. Rick took off at a dead run for the elevator. I figured he might need backup, so I was right behind him."

"I couldn't run in those damn stilettos," Hayley groused, "So I got to the elevator just as the door closed, and had to wait for it to return."

"Probably a good thing," Javier said with a sigh, "As bad as it was, it would have been infinitely worse if you had gone through that door with Rick and me." He sat quietly for a few seconds, overwhelmed by the horror and pathos of that night.

When he resumed the narrative, he spoke with studied deliberation, as if that would somehow mitigate the devastation of those few seconds. "Rick exploded out of the elevator like a quarter horse from the starting gate at Ruidoso. I don't know who was more surprised, Rick and me, or the two armed body guards Alexyev had stationed in the hall outside his suite. Rick was so focused on getting to Kate that I don't think he even was aware of the guards. One of them got off a shot that hit Rick just below the ribs on the right side. It was a through and through that hit me in the arm on its way out."

Unconsciously, he reached up to touch the bandages that still swathed his upper arm. "Rick and I both returned fire and the two guards went down. That suite must be well sound proofed, because neither Kate nor Alexyev seemed to be aware of the pitched battle going on in the hallway."

"How did you get the door open?" Hayley asked. When she arrived, the heavy, solid wood, double main entry had been smashed open, the area around the locks riven and splintered.

"When the guard shot Rick, he flinched, but didn't even slow down. He hit the door with a full head of steam and simply smashed them open. From the entry, we could see directly into the master bedroom. Kate's dress was bunched around her hips leaving her naked from the waist up." Javier's voice hitched, simply unable to go on.

Hayley reached out, covering his hand gently with her own. He took a shuddering breath before continuing. "Hayley, I can't get this picture out of my mind, it's like it's burned permanently into my retinas. She freaked out two nights before when Rick accidentally touched her in his sleep, and here she is, Alexyev had both hands on her breasts and his mouth on her neck. He had already marked her once and there were bite marks on her breasts."

"What was Kate doing?"  
"She was grinding her hips into his pelvis like some kind of demoniac lap dancer. She had her head thrown back, eyes closed, panting and moaning in heat. Rick let out a growl that somehow combined pure hurt and deadly rage. He crashed into Alexyev with such force that it carried them both into the French doors which shattered and then across the balcony and into the chest high aluminum railing. It buckled and most of the anchors popped out of the concrete, but it held. They fell back, grappling and trading blows, but Rick was bleeding profusely and I could see his strength was waning.

I tossed Kate my blazer and told her to cover herself, then went to help Rick. Just as I reached them, Alexyev seemed to stumble and they fell against the railing which gave way this time and they fell to the street below. 


	44. Chapter 44

**Rick's Cabin Canada's Yukon Territory Sunday Noon**

Kayla hit the kill switch on her snowmobile and let it coast to a halt. Rick would be pissed if he knew she was still only a half mile from his cabin, but something just didn't feel right. Part of it was the whole idea of running off and leaving Rick alone to face whoever had been in the helicopter. He was as weak as a newborn kitten and twice as fragile. As far as she knew, the only weapon at the cabin was his bear gun, a custom lever action that fired cartridges as big as a soda bottle. If he was rash enough to actually fire it, the recoil would probably kill him.  
No, it was more visceral than that, more a product of some primordial instinct than rational thought. She knew to the depths of her being that whoever was in the helicopter had not come to harm Rick. "I believe a little reconnaissance is in order," she muttered to herself.

She slipped off of the snowmobile and reached under her white snow suit, making sure that her own bear gun, a classic 4-inch Smith & Wesson .44 magnum, was secure in its shoulder holster. Satisfied, she slipped into the forest.

To Kate, it felt like she had been slogging up the trail to Rick's cabin for hours. The trail was steep, rocky and more than a little slippery. The overstuffed backpack and large duffel bag she carried ruined her balance and sapped her strength more than she liked to admit, but finally, she sat on a large rock to catch her breath; and truth be told, to steel her nerves for the bitter confrontation that was sure to follow when she pitched up on his doorstep unannounced.

"And who might you be?" A voice seemingly out of the blue startled her. She jolted upright and spun to locate the source. A figure dressed all in white stepped out from behind a snow laden larch and took station in the center of the path, clearly intending to block Kate's further progress.

"Kate Beckett," she said as she swept the hood off her head. "I was…"

"I know who you are Agent Beckett." The figure swept her own hood back, revealing her to be a young woman about Kate's own age and general build. "Now give me one good reason why I should let you continue up this path."

"Because I might have to hurt you if you don't, I'm not leaving until I say…." The fist seemed to come from nowhere, a picture perfect right cross that connected with Kate's jaw and snapped her head to the side, depositing her on her back-side in the middle of the path.

"I think maybe you should give me another reason," the girl declared.

"I didn't know Canadians were so touchy," Kate groaned as she painfully levered herself upright.

The girl sniffed and grinned at her, but made no move to help her up. "Not Canadian," she declared, "My husband is, I'm American."

"I guess that would make you a relative of Rick's and since you obviously hate my guts, I take it that he's here."

"He's here," the girl acknowledged. "Or at least what's left of him. Just for the record, I do hate your guts, and if I thought I could shoot you and get away with it I probably would."

"I would very much like to speak to him."

"I don't think that would be wise, Agent Beckett. His survival at this point is by no means certain, I'm not sure he could take the additional stress."

"What happened?" Kate gasped. "Why is he here and not in a hospital? And just who are you anyway."

The girl chose to answer the simplest question first. "Kayla McDermitt, I'm Rick's cousin, my husband and I run the Red Wolf district hospital which is about 50 miles from here. So at least for the time being I'm also his doctor."

"He's fifty miles from the nearest hospital?" Kate shrieked. "What kind of lunatic are you?"

"Not nearly as lunatic as the woman who won the heart of an incredible, beautiful man and then tore it out of his chest and stomped it flat so she could hook up with a violent, sadistic, sexual predator." Kayla retorted bitterly.

There was no ready response to that statement, mostly because it was the simple unvarnished truth. Kate grimaced at the jab and the bile rising in her throat threatened to cost her the rudimentary breakfast she had forced down only a few hours earlier. "How'd he get here?" she rasped out. So far at least, the other woman seemed willing to answer questions.

"He showed up at my home in Red Wolf Wednesday morning, half dead from exposure, dehydration, and bleeding from a GSW to the abdomen. "He begged Charlie and me to bring him here."

"How did he get there?" Kate asked, "And why did he want to come to this cabin?"

"I don't know how he got there." Kayla replied, "But I get the distinct impression that it wasn't entirely legal. There were a couple of reasons why he wanted to come here, I think. The district Mountie office is just two blocks from the hospital, and we're required to file a report if someone comes in with a gunshot wound. They would have been all over him. He kept muttering that he needed to prevent something from happening and that he had to be here to do it."

"So you just brought him here and left him?" Kate asked with a bit of frost. Kayla clenched her fist and her face flushed hot pink. For a second, Kate thought she might hit her again. "I'm sorry Kayla. That came out a bit more harshly than I intended."

"You didn't think anything that I haven't told myself a thousand times since I got here this morning. He promised me that he would take his meds and change his dressing twice a day. Unfortunately, he did neither." She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "What he did do was go on a four day drunk."

"Is he okay?"

"Far from it." Kayla scoffed. "He's fighting the perfect trifecta of sepsis, pneumonia, and physical trauma. A lesser man wouldn't have made it this long. What he really needs is a full-time nurse. I can't stay because people will start asking questions if I'm gone for more than a day."

Kate looked up and met her gaze squarely, "I'll stay. If he'll have me."


	45. Chapter 45

Tampa FBI Field Office Sunday Noon

"This is incredible, Javi." Hayley moaned in response to the first bite of her sandwich and the unfamiliar flavors that had her taste buds humming like a high tension wire. "What's it called again?"

"Banh mi. It's kind of the national sandwich of Viet Nam. There's a Vietnamese restaurant just down the street"

"I think I'll send you out for lunch more often." Hayley moaned again as she proceeded to demolish her food.

Javier grinned delightedly. "There's a lot of different versions, but this is my favorite."

"What's in there anyway?"

"Roast pork, barbecue sauce, cucumbers, pickled carrots, fresh cilantro, daikon and fresh chiles." He grinned as he saw tiny beads of sweat pop out on her upper lip. "But I see you already figured that out."

"Yeah, I feel hot all over." She said, fanning herself vigorously.

Javier collapsed in a paroxysm of coughing as he choked on the mouthful of food he had just bitten off. "I could help you with that."

Hayley smacked him lightly on the hand. "Get your mind out of the gutter Mr. Esposito."

"Yes ma'am."

"I think we've finished as much of the timeline that's relevant." Hayley suggested. Neither of them wanted to think about the hellish days following 'the incident' as it came to be called. His closest friends keeping vigil for twelve long hours as the best trauma team in Florida and the fighting spirit of Rick Castle waged an all-out war for his life.

One or more of his inner circle constantly by his side as he lay in a coma for four long days. Notably absent during that time was Kate Beckett, primarily because Vienna had banned her from the hospital.

Then Rick awoke from the coma and in the midst of joy and celebration, came the first of three hammer blows that drove them to their knees. First, the US Attorney announced that he was formally charging Rick with first-degree murder in the death of Sergei Alexyev, and that Rick would be moved to the state's maximum security prison as soon as he was out of intensive care. They all knew that was tantamount to a death sentence.

Then the Russian ambassador called Vienna and informed her that the Russian Federation intended to file a wrongful death lawsuit against Rick on behalf of Mr. Alexyev, and they would be seeking damages equivalent to Rick's share in the Orion Institute.

Then came the grand finale. Rick disappeared, seemingly into thin air.

Javier and Hayley shook themselves out their reverie. Hayley opened the envelope and extracted the stack of documents. She divided it into two roughly equal stacks and handed one to Javier. "Here, you look through these and I'll take the rest."

"Okay," He began flipping through the stack, scanning each page and stopping to read in more depth if he found something interesting. Ten minutes later they leaned back in their chairs, shaking their heads.

"If she was trying to dig up dirt on Rick, she did a damn poor job of it," Hayley observed.

"These references are universally laudatory, in fact, they make it look like Rick's a saint."

"Oh, he's no saint," Javier laughed, "but his unsaintly qualities are all pretty minor in the grand scheme of things."

Suddenly Hayley closed her eyes and leaned back looking into the distance as if she were seeing things beyond the range of human sight. She began to tap her cheek with her pen; which Javier had learned was her tell for serious and deep thinking. He sat quietly until she finally broke the silence. "I know what she was doing."

"Care to share?"

"She was looking for confirmation."

Javier looked puzzled, "Confirmation?"

"Sorry, let me drop back and give you a little background. Every day since she met Rick, she would comment that he was too good to be true, that he had to be hiding something, he had to have feet of clay like every other man she had ever known. She was convinced that he would let her down, that he would break her heart. So she was just waiting for it to happen and the longer Rick went without screwing up, the more stress she built up. I guess an explosion was inevitable."

"So what about the confirmation thing?" Javier asked.  
"I think she was looking for confirmation that Rick really is what he seems to be. She's going after him."

"Hayley, do you know what my job was when I first came to work for Rick?" She shook her head. "I was Rick's bodyguard." She tried but failed to stifle a giggle, and Javier gave her a wide grin. "I know, the idea of Rick needing a body guard is hilarious, but it was something Vienna insisted on and he went along with it. Anyway, I was with him almost 24/7 for a little over two years. If there was any dirt on Rick I would know. There isn't any, he is exactly what he seems to be."

"What about the 'groupies'?" she questioned with a tiny bit of skepticism.

"Told you about that did he?" at her nod he continued. "I'm not saying that Rick didn't take advantage of some opportunities for female companionship. It wasn't like he was on the prowl, the women almost always came to him, and they always left in the morning before he was awake. That really bothered him. So he finally just gave up. I don't think he's been with any woman in the last few years."

Hayley stood and began to gather the remnants of their lunch. "Let's clean up before we get going again, room service doesn't work on Sunday around here." She started down the hall toward the break room with Javier following close behind. Suddenly she stopped abruptly, causing Javier to engage in some fancy footwork to avoid running over her. "Oh damn." She exclaimed.

"What is it sweetheart?"

"I'll tell you when we get back to my office. Damn, I can.t believe I missed it." They sprinted the remaining distance, deposited their trash in the receptacles, and then sprinted back to her office. She typed and scrolled for several seconds then turned the screen to face Javier with a triumphant "See!"

The screen displayed a photo of the crime scene. The field of view included the entrance foyer to Alexyev's suite and the dining area. A room service cart was parked just outside the dining area. Javier studied it intensely for several minutes while Hayley sat tapping her pen on the desktop impatiently. Finally she couldn't stand it any longer. "Want a hint?"

Javier threw up his hands, "Why don't you just tell me?"

"The room service cart. When did Alexyev order room service? And why order it anyway if they were going to eat in the restaurant?"

"So what exactly are you implying," Javier asked, still trying to connect the dots.

"Let's do a little experiment. Does the report tell what foods were ordered?"

Javier scanned the report and nodded, "Yes it does."

"Okay, give me a second." She scribbled furiously, "This is Kate's favorite meal," she said, handing Javier the paper, "Compare this to what was on the cart."

"They're identical. Chicken Marsala, Lyonaise potatoes and baby asparagus."

"What about dessert, chocolate cheesecake?"

"Right again, you know what this means."

Yes, Alexyev had his bases covered whether they went to the restaurant or to his suite for dinner. He purposefully pursued Kate and set an ambush. This was a trap." 


	46. Chapter 46

**Rick's Cabin Canada's Yukon Territory Sunday October 23 Early Afternoon**

"I'll go in first and maybe prepare him a little, wouldn't want him to have a heart attack after making it this far." Kayla suggested as she and Kate reached the front door to the cabin. Receiving a nod of agreement from Kate, she slipped quietly through the screen door and into the cabin.

Kate peered through the screen door hoping to steal a glance at Rick before he saw her. She had not seen him in over a week and she missed him terribly. At least a dozen times a night, she would reach out to find the comfort and safety of his arms, only to find herself cold and alone and afraid.

She staggered and fell against the door jamb as a wave of nausea crashed over her. She had no illusions that Rick would react positively to her presence. She had wounded him too deeply for that. In fact, she would put equal odds on stony indifference and blind rage.

"Kayla, what the hell are you doing here?" Rick exclaimed without opening his eyes.

"How'd you know it was me?"

"Your footsteps were clearly a woman's and I don't have another woman stashed away."

"I couldn't leave you alone to face whomever came on the helicopter. You've always been there for me. I'm just returning the favor."

"Well I guess we'll have to make the best of it. Who came on the helicopter?" he asked.

"Just one person, who very much wants to speak to you." Kayla turned and waved Kate in.

When Kate reached the door to Rick's bedroom, she had to stifle an involuntary gasp. He looked like death warmed over; no, looked worse than that, more like death served cold. His skin hung limply from his frame, his skin was pale, making the sickening yellows and purples of healing bruises stand out all the more shockingly. "Hello Rick," she said softly.

Rick's eyes flew open with such force that Kate feared his eyelids would get stuck up in the eye sockets. He struggled upright, but fell back with a deep groan and what little color he possessed drained away. He clutched his chest with a grimace, taking rapid shallow breaths until the pain subsided. "Have you come to haul me back to prison for killing your little fuck buddy, Agent Beckett?"

"No, I came to…"

"Are you here on official business?"

"No, I…"

"Then you need to leave." He grimaced as another wave of pain splashed across his features. "You need to leave right now and I never want to see your face again."

"Rick. Don't you think it would be gentlemanly to at least listen to her side of the story?"Kayla interjected.

"Kayla, I don't know what you were thinking when you brought her here, but I don't need to hear her side of the story, I saw her side of the story. It's something that I'll never get out of my head."

Kayla stepped toward the bed and struck a pose, jaw and chest thrust out, fists on hips. The message was clear, I'm prepared to be stubborn about this. "Rick, you were raised to always be a gentleman. No matter what. Now, at least listen to her, please."

"No!"

"No?

"No. I get nauseated just being in the same room. Now you two get on your snow machine and get out of here."

"No!

"No?"

"No. First of all, I'm not leaving until tomorrow, and when I leave, Kate's not going with me. "

"Not going… then where is she..?"

"She's staying with you until you're on your feet."

"Kayla are you trying to kill me?" Rick groaned.

You need a full time nurse," she grinned archly, "And Kate agreed to stay."

Rick covered his face with his hand, "Oh God, I'm so dead."

"I'm glad you're seeing reason. Now let me do some doctor stuff that I didn't get to this morning. Kate, come on in, you need to see this."

When Kate walked in, she could tell that Rick was watching her through half closed eyelids. Amazingly she felt the familiar tingly shiver she always got when she felt his gaze linger. She never really minded, because he didn't look at her as an object to be admired and then discarded, but as a subject to be loved and cherished. And she had destroyed that, probably forever if Rick's reaction to her arrival was given any weight.

Kayla waved Kate over to Rick's bedside. "Rick has to take his antibiotics by IV. Twice a day, morning and night."

"Kayla, I've never started an IV, I don't think I can do this."

"Don't be nervous, I'm going to make it as easy as possible." She busied herself for several minutes, placing the needle with expert precision. Then instead of starting the IV, she slid the needle out leaving a small white tube embedded in Rick's forearm. "This tube is called a pick line. It can stay in up to a week, so when you have to give Rick his IV you only have to connect the bag to this connector. You shouldn't have to do any sticks at all."

Kate relaxed a little and watched as Kayla walked her through the procedure. It didn't seem all that difficult, so when Kayla asked if she was ready to give it a go, she nodded confidently.

"Here's the bag. He's way overdue, so go ahead and get this started and when it's done, we'll give him another one."

"All right, here we go." She said and began to connect the IV. The whole process almost came unraveled the first time her hand brushed against Rick's arm. An almost tangible spark jolted her and she fumbled the IV bag. It affected Rick as well if his sudden flinch was any indication. Kate was pretty sure the soft whimper came from her. Maybe there was hope after all.

Kate felt Kayla's hand on her shoulder. "Are you okay?" Kayla whispered.

Kate nodded, "Yeah, I'm good. Just a little nervous, that's all."

Kayla gave her a skeptical glance. "Looked like a lot more than nerves to me."

Kate blushed and chose not to respond. She finished connecting the bag with no more than pleasant tingles whenever she happened to touch Rick. It seemed that he felt a tiny tremor when she touched him. He lay quietly while she worked, but the fact that he was not indifferent to her touch cheered her a little. Maybe there was hope after all.

Rick opened his eyes when she finished. "I have an idea. Kayla said I could have a bit of solid food tonight." Kayla nodded in agreement. "I haven't had any fresh Arctic Char in a long time, so how about you two go down to the lake and catch us some supper. I'm going to take a nap while this IV runs in."

"I'm game," Kayla said. "Do you like to fish, Kate?"  
"Oh yes, I love to fish. Count me in."

"You still love him, don't you?" Kayla asked as she and Kate followed the narrow path out of the forest and onto the open tundra. Here they could walk side by side, a position more conducive to conversation.

"Yes," Kate answered without a millisecond hesitation, "More than anything."

"I'm sure you're tired of hearing this, but…"

"Why did I do it?" Kate stated with the certainty born of much practice at filling in that particular blank. "I honestly don't know. Kayla, that night is mostly just a fog. I don't remember much of anything after I met Alexyev and we went to the restaurant."

"Do you remember Rick breaking down the door?"

"No, just some vague impressions." A fat tear escaped and trailed unheeded down her cheek. "I was so far gone, I didn't realize Rick had been injured until the next morning and when I showed up at the hospital, they threw me out."

"Kate, can I ask you a doctor question?" receiving a confirmatory nod from Kate, Kayla continued. "Have you ever been diagnosed with any type of mental illness?"

"Yes, PTSD."

"Hmmm," Kayla mused, "I've never heard of PTSD presenting itself that way. Doesn't mean it's impossible though. I think I need to do a little research when I get back home tomorrow."  
"Why are you doing this?" Kate asked with a puzzled look. The contrast between the woman who punched her out and threatened to shoot her and the woman who, just hours later, was acting like her best friend was just too stark.

"Because I love Rick, and I'm starting to see why he's so crazy in love with you. There's so much chemistry between you two that you should probably be declared a fire hazard."

"He hates me." Kate struggled to hold back a sob. "Maybe he used to love me, but not anymore."

"Kate, listen to me" Kate motioned for her to go on. "Rick does not hate you. He's hurt and angry and scared and worried; but he does not hate you. I saw how he looked at you in there and that was not a hate look, more of a wistful longing look."

"You said Rick was scared. I have a hard time imagining Rick being afraid of anything."

"He's absolutely terrified of one thing, Kate and that's you. He's absolutely terrified of you."

"What?" Kate stumbled and would have fallen had Kayla not reached out and grasped her arm. "Me?"

"Yes, he's terrified that he won't measure up to your standards. That you are a classy woman and he's just a reformed hillbilly."

"Oh damn, Kayla I was afraid that I wouldn't measure up to his standards, that he would tire of me and leave like everyone else."

"I know Rick as well as anyone and that scenario had absolutely no chance of ever happening."

"You two seem awfully close, even for cousins. Have you known Rick all your life?"

"Seems that way sometimes" Kayla chuckled. "But no, I didn't meet Rick until I was fifteen."

"So how did you get so close?""He saved me. Everything I am, everything I have, I owe to him."

"Sounds like quite a story there." Kate prompted.

"Yeah," Kayla sighed, "You've been spilling your guts all day, I guess it's only fair that I reciprocate. My parents were both killed in a car accident when I was thirteen. I went to live with an aunt. She hated me and never lost an opportunity to tell me how worthless I was and how I should have died in that wreck. I got so depressed that I tried to slash my wrists, but I fainted at the first sight of blood. That made me feel even more useless, I couldn't even manage to kill myself properly."

"Oh Kayla," Kate tried to blink back her tears but failed miserably.

"It's okay, there's only two other people who know the whole story, one's Rick and one's someone I'll tell you about later. Anyway, about the time I turned fifteen, the witch did the only decent thing she ever did for me. Somehow she got the idea that I needed a pen pal. She told me that I had a cousin in the Marines and maybe I should write to him."

"That was Rick, right"

"Yeah, we started writing and he was so sweet that pretty soon I had a major crush on him. Then about six months later my aunt let her boyfriend move in with us. He was a real sleaze ball and I felt his eyes on me anytime I was in the room. A couple of months later I was walking down the hall and he pulled me into his room. He asked me if I was ready to 'have some fun.' I fought him and he tried to force me. I screamed and my aunt came in. She blamed me for tempting him and kicked me out of the house."

"My God Kayla, what did you do?

"Made my way from homeless shelter to homeless shelter. Stole food when I was hungry, worked odd jobs when I could find one. I bought a fake ID that said I was eighteen. After that, it was a little better getting jobs. I finally found a job that included room and board. I was so happy to get off the streets that the type of business it was didn't really bother me."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Kate said seriously.

"It was a strip club."

"Strip club! Kayla?"

"I wasn't stripping, at least at first. I was just waitressing. But after a few months the manager wanted me to start dancing, he said I wasn't bringing in enough tips. About that time, I found a piece of paper with a phone number on it buried in my wallet. I remembered that Rick had told me if I was ever in serious trouble to call that number and they would know how to contact him.

I didn't really want him to know what I was doing, but I was desperate. So I dialed the number and the person who answered was the duty officer at some place called Twenty-nine Palms. They said he was off –base at that time but if I wanted to leave a message, they would see that he got it. I left a message telling him where I was.

"For the next three weeks, I tried every trick I could think of to keep the manager off my back. Finally, the day of reckoning came. The manager gave me an ultimatum: dance or get out."

Kate smiled "I bet it's just about to get good."

Kayla smiled back, "So there I was, decked out in my costume which essentially consisted of three postage stamps and a few strands of dental floss. The music started and I took two steps onto the stage and then just froze. I looked around for help and quickly realized there was none, all the sleaze balls in the audience were either drooling on themselves or yelling nasty comments and suggestions at me.

I saw a new man walk in the back. He was so clean cut and serious looking that I dared hope he might be willing to help me. The manager jumped onto the stage and tried to drag me to the front. I fought back with all my strength and he got angry and started screaming at me. I started screaming and the crowd went wild. I think they thought it was all part of the show."

"The man I had seen climbed onto the stage and the manager turned to him and said, "Get off my stage soldier boy, or you might get hurt."

"That was your second mistake, I'm a Marine not a soldier."

"What was my first mistake," he sneered.

"Putting your hands on that woman without her leave." "Oh yeah, then I guess this would be my third mistake," and he slapped me hard across the cheek.

Kate tingled with anticipation. She had seen this scenario played out before.

"The next thing I know, the manager's face erupted in a geyser of blood and broken teeth. The marine leaned over and said in the most matter of fact voice, "Yep, that was number three."

"When he turned to look at me, I saw his eyes and that scared me more than anything. They were as cold as ice and harder than flint. He suddenly scooped me up, kicking and screaming, threw me over his shoulder and headed for the door. Before we got outside two of the bouncers tried to intervene and he took both of them out. When we got to the parking lot, he set me down and flashed the biggest grin I had ever seen. He said, "If you're not Kayla, I guess I have some explaining to do."

"Who are you?" I asked a bit suspiciously.

"Rick," and just like that, I knew my life had changed forever, No one would ever hurt me again as long as Rick was around.

"What did he do with you?"

Kayla smiled as she remembered the day when her life shifted on its axis again. "He took me to South Carolina. To Aunt Cindy."

"Haven't heard of her before," Kate observed.

"Cynthia Castle-O'Rourke is Rick's Father's oldest sister. I guess you would call her the Matriarch of the clan, cause when she says jump, everybody jumps. She keeps tabs on everyone and she always just knows what anyone who's in trouble needs. She's a pediatrician. Her husband JP is the local sheriff."

"When we got to her house, she treated me like a long lost daughter. She and Rick had a long talk and when they came out, she offered to let me stay with her and JP until I finished high school. Suffice it to say that they gave me eighteen years of raising in a little less than three years, Most importantly she let me shadow her as she treated her patients. I quickly fell in love with medicine and got accepted to medical school. So that's my story."


	47. Chapter 47

Tampa FBI Field Office Sunday October 23 Early Afternoon Javier and Hayley sat leaning back in their chairs. They were watching This Week On the Bay, a news talk show that was generally well-regarded by the good citizens of central Florida. Channel Eleven, the news organization behind the show had a well-established and vigorously defended reputation of always being first on the scene with cameras when anything interesting was happening. An overly bombastic producer once claimed that Channel Eleven would get cameras into the devil's throne room in hell if he announced Armageddon. No one chose to argue the poTen minutes before the show was scheduled to end, two men met in the hall outside the studio where the show was being broadcast. One of the men held up a small DVD case. "Mac, I want you to get this on at the end of the show. Whoop it up as a major scoop, and we have an absolute exclusive."

"Geez Lindsey, you think you might could give me a little more notice?" McKinley Phelps, General Manager of the station, groused.

Lindsey Grayson III, who owned the station, chose to ignore the mild rebuke inherent in his subordinate's response. "Mac, this is big, really big. We haven't had a really big scoop in a while, and it fits right in with the topic of today's show.

The topic of the day was the Russian Federation's attempt to seize a partial ownership in the Orion Institute, Which also happened to be the Bay Area's fourth largest and most admired employer. While the viewers had little knowledge of the technology under development at Orion, they shared an almost universal sense of dread as the sheer magnitude of the Russian gambit was skillfully presented by the station's news team.

"Okay Lindsey, what's on the tape?"

"The fight between Rick Castle and the Russian."

"What!? Why haven't I seen this before?"

"Because I've had it in my office."  
"How long?" Mac demanded through gritted teeth.

"The day after." Lindsey smiled his 'I think I've been particularly clever' smile and waited for Mac to fall down and worship his genius. Sadly, he was somewhat disappointed.

"Lindsey, of all the stupid, brain dead things you've done since you inherited the station this takes the grand prize. You do realize that what you did is a felony, don't you?"

"We'll just tell them that we didn't find the tape until today."

Mac cringed. "So in addition to being an accessory to obstruction of justice, you want me to lie to federal officers?"

"Are you going to put this on the air or not?"

"I most certainly am not," Mac replied with some heat.

"Fine, have your resignation on my desk tomorrow morning."

"I'll have it to you before I leave today." Mac sighed and trudged wearily down the hall to his office.

Lindsey delivered his disc to the control room operator and returned to his office to watch the broadcast.

Javier and Hayley sat bolt upright in their chairs when the 'Breaking News' banner scrolled across the screen and the moderator announced that they were going to show video of the fight. "Son of a bitch" Hayley snarled. She bounded out of her chair, grabbed her badge and gun from the desk and charged out the door, throwing a "You coming?" back over shoulder.

Javier had to run to catch up, those long legs could really cover some ground when she wanted to. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"I'm going to get that tape, and if he's had it for more than ten minutes I'm going to arrest his sorry ass for obstruction and lying to a federal officer."

"Don't you need a warrant for that?"

"Not if he gives it to me voluntarily."

"Do you think he will?"She smiled grimly "Oh yeah, he'll piss and moan, but he'll cave eventually. His balls are softer than Sponge Bob Square Pants."

"Who is 'he' by the way?"

"Lindsey Grayson the third, he owns the station."

"Sounds like you've butted heads before?"

Hayley didn't answer for a moment as she concentrated on navigating the Tahoe onto I-75, heading north to Temple Terrace, where the station was located.

"Yeah we've met before."

"And?"

"We were at a cocktail party and he started hitting on me. I told him I wasn't interested, but he just wouldn't stop. Finally, he ..Uh…grabbed me in an inappropriate place."

Javier grinned "Let me guess, you broke his arm."

"What do you think I am, some kind of barbarian? No, I only dislocated it." Hayley protested indignantly.

Mac stood at the window in his office, staring pensively at nothing in particular. He had no real concerns about finding another job, other stations had been trying to steal him away for years. A few well-placed phone calls should take care of that problem. His unease went far deeper than that, he truly loved everyone at Channel Eleven, they were family. Most of them, he had hired and trained. Now that moron was going to ruin it all. The worst that could happen would be for the Feds to pull their broadcast license. All because that nitwit didn't know when to go sip a mint julep at the country club and leave the running of the station to the pros.

A flash of movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention and he turned his head in that direction just in time to see a black Tahoe with flashing lights screech to a halt at the front entrance. Damn that was quick. I guess I'd better go meet them

"Mr. Phelps," the receptionist greeted him as he entered the reception area, "there are some people from the FBI here to see you."

"Thanks Marie, I'll take it from here."

The woman flashed her badge, "Special Agent Hayley Shipton and this is my partner, Javier Esposito. I believe you have some video that has a direct bearing on a murder investigation we are pursuing. I would appreciate it if you would surrender that tape voluntarily."

"Of course, Agent Shipton, if you'll follow me to my office, I'll get it for you."

"You'll do no such thing!" Lindsey bellowed as he stormed into the reception area, all fuss and bluster. "This my station and my tape. If you want to get it you'll have to show me a warrant." Then, he recognized Hayley. "Well, if it isn't the federal bitch of investigation," He sneered. "I'm still waiting for my warrant, and since you don't have one, I'd thank you to leave my station."

Hayley stood shocked by the sheer gall of the man. "Let me ask you one question, how long have you had the tape?"

"We found it this morning." He replied with a straight face.

"Is that true, Mr. Phelps?" Hayley turned to the General Manager.

"Sadly, it is not. He's had the tape since the day after the incident."

"Two weeks! He's had the tape for two weeks?" She drew her handcuffs out of her jacket "Lindsey Grayson I'm placing you under arrest for obstruction of justice, conspiracy to withhold evidence and lying to a Federal officer. As she started to slip on the cuffs, he threw an elbow which landed on her left cheekbone. Staggered for a moment, he slipped out of her grasp and bolted for the door.

He had hardly taken two steps when an iron grip on his arm spun him around and a pile driver fist slammed into his solar plexus. As he lay whooping and gasping on the floor, Javier finished snapping on the cuffs and hauled him none too gently to his feet.

I guess you can add resisting arrest and assaulting a Federal officer to the previous list of charges," Javier stated.

"Yeah, he's building quite a rap sheet," Hayley agreed. Her cheek was starting to hurt and she massaged it gingerly.

"Agent Shipton, could I get you some ice for that?" Mac asked.

"That would be very kind of you Mr. Phelps.

Three hours later, paperwork completed, prisoner transported and Hayley's cheek x-rayed; Javier and Hayley returned to the FBI office. Hayley suggested that they view the tape in the conference room. It had a 60-inch screen which should make it easier to spot details than on Hayley's laptop. By the time she returned from her office with her computer, Javier had set out the pizza they had bought for dinner on their way back from the station.

They sat side-by side munching their pizza and watched the two-minute tape several times straight through, just to get the feel of it. Then they slowed it down to one tenth speed and watched it through several more times. Finally, they went frame by frame.

"Okay, you go first Hayley." Javier suggested.

"I saw several things that don't really fit the current theory. One – they say Rick pushed him off the balcony and that Alexyev made a last desperate grab and pulled Rick over with him. I just don't see that. I don't see anything like a push from Rick, If anything, Rick is leaning back at that point.

Two – I don't see the last desperate grab. Look at this'" She scrolled back a few frames, "At the point he goes over the edge, Alexyev's arms seem to be hanging limply by his sides, He didn't make a grab for anything."

"Very good Agent Shipton, let me show you something that puzzled me." He scrolled forward to where Alexyev was just starting to fall. "Look there, he said, pointing out an area on the screen with a laser pointer. What do you see there?

"A dark spot on his dinner jacket" Hayley suggested.

"Indeed. Now let's scroll back one frame, which is one-thirtieth of a second in real time."

"It's not there," Hayley gasped, "What is it?"  
"It's a gunshot wound. The fall didn't kill him, he was shot"


	48. Chapter 48

Rick's Cabin Sunday Evening October 23

Rick stood leaning on the railing of his front porch. His stated reason for being there was to get some exercise and fresh air. However, his real purpose was to watch the northern lights. He never tired of watching the most incredible light show on earth, and it never failed to comfort him. He once told Kayla that the lights were God smiling at us. Tonight they were particularly exuberant, shimmering and dancing to the heartbeat of the universe.

He was about to return to the cabin when he heard the screen door open and close softly. He instantly knew it was Kate. Perhaps it was her scent, that unique scent that he once loved, but now tended to make him nauseated.

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" Kate spoke softly.

"Yep." Was the most he could muster before he choked and went on a coughing spell that sent sharp stabs of pain through his body like shards of broken glass.

When the coughing subsided, he pushed off the railing and hobbled painfully toward the door. Kate intercepted him and raised her arms as if to help support his weight. He waved her off. "Don't touch me Agent Beckett."

She dropped her arms to her side looking as shocked as if he had struck her. "Why can't I help you back into the house?"

He stopped and weighed his response, deciding that brutal honesty was the best policy. It would be hard on her, but the little demon that was the dark side of his soul wanted to hurt her like she had him. Finally, he spoke. "From the first time I met you, I had an overwhelming physical attraction for you. And today I find that I still do. If you touch me, I might lose control. I don't think either us want that."  
"We need to talk." Kate answered beseechingly.

"There you are mistaken, Agent Beckett. We don't need to talk about anything that I'm aware of. "

"Rick, please, there's something I really need to say."

Rick thought back to the tongue lashing he'd received from Kayla, and as much as he didn't want to admit it, Kayla was right; the gentlemanly thing to do was to hear her out. "All right Agent Beckett, say what you have to say."

"First, I want to say how truly sorry I am…"

Rick held up his hand, "Stop right there Agent Beckett. You being sorry doesn't butter any biscuits for me. If that's the best you've got, then we might as well go on back inside and play Scrabble or something."

Kate was a bit taken aback by the vehemence of his response. "What can I do to make you love me again?" She asked, half expecting another outburst.

Instead, Rick's voice dropped to a level just a little above a whisper, and his tone turned gentle. "I still love you Agent Beckett, I always will."

"Then why….?"

"Why aren't we sharing a bed? Why aren't we cuddling on the couch?" He said as the bitterness started to creep back into his voice.

"Well yes those too, but I was going to ask why you won't use my first name."

Rick's brow furrowed as he weighed his next words. "Because using your first name would imply a degree of closeness in our relationship that no longer exists."

"Are you saying that there's no chance for us?" The hurt in her eyes almost tore him apart, almost compelled him to take the three steps that separated them and gather her into his arms. But there was infinitely more at stake here than a cheating girlfriend. He had to be strong and focus on what he had to do to keep Orion from falling into the Russian's hands.

"I think that is a high probability." He stated reluctantly. "It would take a miracle to unravel this mess."

"You can't find it in your heart to forgive me?" she begged.

"I forgive you" He stated with all seriousness.

"What did you say?" She whispered.

He met her gaze squarely, "I said I forgive you."

"Then we can…"

"Go back to the way we were?"

She nodded, troubled by his expression, about as flat and neutral as a human face can be. There was not a trace of either anger or joy. She would rather that he was angry. At least that would denote some spark of passion that could fanned into flame. But now, all she could detect were cinders and ashes.

"Highly unlikely, agent Beckett. You see forgiving you doesn't imply trusting you. I could never be with a woman I can't trust implicitly."

"Rick, I promise, nothing like that will ever happen again." She stated fervently.

"Agent Beckett let's suppose we were married. It's a natural question to ask what would happen the next time some young, charming, suave, sophisticated pretty boy stud muffin decides he wants you to light his fire?

"Rick, I would never do that. "Kate protested.

"Agent Beckett, you already did. That horse is well and truly out of the barn."

Bitter tears coursed down her cheek. 


	49. Chapter 49

Tampa FBI Field Office Sunday Evening October 23

"We've only got one more set of the hotel security camera tapes to go through," Hayley stretched and yawned, "You want to wait and do it tomorrow or plow on through it tonight?"

"I vote for plowing," Javier replied. "I have a lot to do at the Institute tomorrow. I doubt I'll have time to come over."

"Okay, let's get at it then." She reached for the next cartridge.

"Wait Hayley, I just had a blinding flash of light."

She smiled at his choice of words. "You've been around Rick too much."

"No doubt," he agreed, "But at least it's never boring."

"I'm starting to see that. Anyway, what's your idea?"

"I think we should build a timeline with the security system videos starting at the point where Kate first appears. Then look at them in time order. Maybe we can spot a trend in her behavior."

Hayley gave herself a theatrical head slap. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Probably just tired."

For the next fifteen minutes they worked industriously organizing the tapes. "Okay, now where do we start?" Hayley asked.

"How about here?" He responded as he plucked the tape for camera number 7 out of the line-up on her desktop. "This is the lobby camera."

Hayley plugged the disc into her computer "Let's start about fifteen minutes before the Auction was supposed to start." She scrolled forward to the appropriate time. "Ah hah, There's our girl." Kate was pacing back and forth in the lobby, looking up whenever the automatic door slid open.

"She seems to be waiting for someone," Javier observed. "Alexyev?"  
"No, I'm sure they had never met until that night."

"Who then?"

Hayley had her own blinding flash of light. "Rick, she was waiting for Rick."

"Whoa there," Javier protested. "She told him not to come."

"Does Rick always do what you tell him to do?"

"Point taken," Javier acknowledged.

"You know, that explains some things. Like the fancy dress. She didn't buy it for some unknown dinner date, she bought it for Rick."

"She doesn't look very happy." Javier observed.

Kate continued to pace until five minutes after the auction started. Then she visibly shrugged and slipped into the auction hall and found her seat.

Hayley scrolled forward to the point where Kate was called to the stage to be auctioned off. "She's still not happy, and she keeps looking back to the entrance."

"Yep, let's see if we can find where she meets Alexyev." Javier suggested.

Hayley scrolled forward to the point where the auction was over and Kate was walking toward the exit. Someone apparently called her name. She stopped and turned as SergeiAlexyev stepped into view. Kate offered her hand for a shake, but he tried to pull her into a hug, which she resisted rather forcefully. He offered her an arm but she refused with a head shake.

"That's my girl," Hayley cheered. "You know, everything we've seen so far is totally in character, she was determined to stick to the letter of the agreement, dinner and nothing else."

"Sure looks that way," Javier agreed. "Let's go on."

After the waiter had taken their orders, Alexeyev pulled a small box, about the size of a Girl Scout cookie box, out of the bag he had been carrying and slid it across the table to Kate. At first she refused to accept, but he kept insisting and eventually she caved and accepted the box. When she opened it, Javier and Hayley saw the first smile on Kate that night.

"Must be pretty good," Javier muttered. "My bet is on lingerie."

"Box is too small," Hayley said. "Now hush, I have a feeling we're just getting to the good part."

Kate reached into the box and reverently removed an orchid corsage. Alexyev made a comment and they both laughed. Most likely his comment had to do with the dearth of places to actually pin a corsage on her dress. Alexyev made some more comments and Kate buried her nose in the orchid and took a giant sniff.

"What the heck did she do that for?" Javier asked, puzzled.

"Unless I miss my guess that is a New Guinean Sunset orchid. It's the second rarest orchid in the world."

"How'd you know that?" A clearly impressed Javier asked.

Hayley flashed him a brief smile, "I'm one of those girls that loves flowers."

"What about the sniffing thing?"

"They say the scent is very subtle, so to enjoy it, you have to do what Alexyev had Kate do. The scent is also said to be slightly intoxicating.

They continued watching the video. Kate's demeanor clearly changed, talking and laughing with Alexyev and taking periodic sniffs of the orchid. Then she leaned across the table and kissed him, on the lips.

"Now that was out of character," Hayley growled, "dammit, I don't think she's even let Rick kiss her more than once."

Then Rick walked in and they had their little discussion and then he left. Shortly Kate and Alexyev left to go up to his suite.

"Look at how they're walking." Hayley noted, "It's like they're welded together. And he's got his hand all over her butt."

"So between the time they sat down in the restaurant and Rick walking in, something happened that made Kate start acting completely out of character.

Hayley turned off the video and they both sat silently mulling over the implications of what they'd seen. Suddenly they turned to each other and they both blurted out the inevitable conclusion.

"The flower!"


	50. Chapter 50

Tampa FBI Field Office Monday Morning October 24

Roy Montgomery, Special Agent in Charge of the Tampa Field Office, finished loading the data for his budget meeting and pressed the 'enter' key. He relaxed back in his chair and rewarded himself with a healthy sip of the cappuccino he picked up on his way into work. It looked to be a fairly calm day, with only one major cloud raining on his parade, and that cloud was named Kate Beckett.

What had possessed the woman anyway? Getting involved with an accredited Diplomat from a country that was just barely on speaking terms with the U.S., precipitating a violent confrontation between her lovers, and then worst of all, disappearing. The conservatives in Congress were already screaming about espionage and demanding Kate's head. A discrete knock at his door interrupted his ruminations. "Come in," He called. Why do I get the feeling that my nice calm Monday is about to implode? Then he saw who his visitor was and feeling became certainty. "What can I do for you AgentShipton?"

"Sir, I would like your permission to remove two pieces of evidence from the evidence room."

"Agent Shipton, you don't need my permission to remove evidence as long as you follow protocol."

"I do if I remove it to the lab at Orion for further testing."

Oh shit, "Which two pieces of evidence are we talking about?"

"Agent Beckett's blood sample that was taken the night of the incident, and an orchid corsage." Hayley responded.

"I believe Agent Beckett's blood sample was tested and nothing was found." Roy pointed out.

"Yes sir, that's correct, but I believe we're looking for something not included in the standard tox screen, perhaps even something that didn't exist until recently."

"Are you serious?" he asked, incredulity evident in his voice. "Wait, you mean like that virus thing that the terrorists tried to use at the golf course?"

"Yes sir, something like that."

"And the best place to deal with something so out of the box is Orion?"

"Yes sir."

"Well, I won't argue that point Agent Shipton, they certainly earned their spurs on the golf course case. By the way, the paperwork came back Friday making Orion an approved consultant. So you're free to use them when the case justifies it."

"Good to know. Sir I have one more request?"

Something in her body language told Roy that she was about to hand him a sputtering stick of dynamite with only a nub of fuse remaining. "Go ahead Agent Shipton, make my day."

Hayley swallowed and braced herself for an explosion. "Sir, I need to have Alexyev's autopsy redone."

Roy's chair crashed forward, almost flinging him onto the floor. "I'm assuming you have a compelling reason for making this request?"

"Yes sir, I have evidence that is exculpatory in the murder charge against Mr. Castle and the only way to confirm it is to have someone else do the autopsy. I'd like to observe if that's possible."

"Who did the autopsy?"

"Assistant ME Healy."

Roy suddenly slapped the top of his desk with such force that Hayley jumped. "I've been trying to fire that moron for years, but he has political support that goes all the way to the top." He paused and a gleeful grin brightened his face. "Agent Shipton if you've got something that will stick to that mutt, it'll be worth getting my ears boxed by the Director for having him in the organization."

"Would this do sir?" Hayley handed him the computer printout she was carrying. "I ran his financials this morning when I got to work."

"Let's see what you have." He adjusted his glasses and began reading. "Holy crap!" He raised his gaze to meet Hayley's

"Three deposits of a half million each in the last thirteen months."

"Look at the dates sir." Hayley prompted. Roy turned his attention back to the printout,

"I see, the latest payment was one day after the Alexyev autopsy and both of the others were within a few days of autopsies where the ME's opinion turned the entire theory of the case on its head. The two previous cases resulted in a hung jury and an acquittal. Made us look like idiots."

"And Assistant ME Healey did all three." Hayley added.

"Son of bitch set us up! Roy growled. "Sorry, Agent Shipton." He added sheepishly.

"It's all right Sir, I've heard the term before."

Roy nodded and punched in the number for the receptionist. "Marilyn, is Dr. Healey in the building?"

"No sir, he came in early, packed some things and left. Said he had to catch a flight."

"Did he say where?"

"No, but I saw his ticket sticking out of his blazer pocket."

"And?"

"Caracas, he was going to Caracas. Avianca flight 2702."

"Excellent," Roy exclaimed "I always said that a good receptionist is worth three field agents." Marilyn beamed and Hayley flashed her a quick thumbs up. "Anything else we need to discuss, Agent Shipton?"

"No sir, And I have a nine o'clock meeting at Orion."

"All right, Agent Shipton, Come back first thing in the morning and I'll fill you in on how we're going to handle the autopsy."


	51. Chapter 51

Tampa Orion Institute Monday Morning October 24

Vienna rose from her desk chair and greeted Javier and Hayley as they arrived for the meeting. She would admit to being more than a little curious. Hayley's text earlier had given no details; simply requested the meeting and said that it was life or death important. Vienna also noticed that Hayley was carrying a small, insulated cooler.

"I don't suppose you have any news from Rick."

Hayley shook her head sadly. "I do think I know where Kate is though. I think she's either looking for Rick or already with him."

Javier swiveled his chair toward her, "When did this revelation occur?"

"Last night while I was trying to get to sleep."

"Do you think he'd actually take her back?" Vienna fairly dripped skepticism.

"I don't know," Hayley admitted, "But I do know that those two are head over heels in love and that can't be turned off like a light. Kate can't live without Rick, she's a different person when he's around, the real Kate.

"May I ask what this meeting is about, Hayley?"

"We, Javier and I, found some evidence over the weekend that we believe may help explain Kate's behavior at the charity auction. She handed her phone to Vienna, who looked skeptical. Never the less, Vienna sat back in her chair to watch the film.

After the third viewing, she carefully placed the phone on her desk. "I think we can agree that there was a radical change in Kate's behavior as the night progressed. I also don't see that any of the events that transpired were in any way planned in advance or even expected by her. However I didn't see anything to suggest she was coerced in any way. So where does that leave us?"

"Drugs?" Javier replied.

"I suppose that could explain it, but Kate's blood was tested immediately and nothing was found."

"The only tests that they performed were the standard toxicology screen." Hayley supplied. "We think we also need to look outside the box."  
"I agree." Vienna stated, turning to her computer "Give me a moment." She typed in the proper code and in less than thirty seconds, Lainey Parrish appeared on the screen.

Good morning Vienna. How may I help you?"

"Good morning, would you come to my office, please, Asap?"

"On my way, be there in five."

Vienna turned back to her guests. "While we're waiting for Lainey, is there anything new on Rick's case?"

"There's some new evidence, but I still have a lot of work to develop it before I can release any details." Hayley announced. The FBI had a very low tolerance for agents who leaked critical information about an ongoing investigation.

"Can you at least tell me if it's hopeful?" Vienna asked softly without lifting her eyes from her desktop. My greatest fear is that you'll prove his innocence, and we'll find that he died of his injuries a week prior.

Hayley felt as if a steel band was constricting her throat. She tried to speak, but no words could force their way through. So she simply nodded, yes it's hopeful. To my last breath, she added.

A soft knock heralded Lainey's arrival. She was bit surprised to see Hayley there. "What's going on, am I under arrest?" Lainey asked. Then, seeing that no one had responded to her attempt to lighten the mood, she seated herself at Vienna's conference table and placed her hands face down on the table in front of her.

The agony etched on the faces of the three others was almost unbearable, but she plunged ahead. "Is somebody going to tell me what's going on" She demanded. "Did we get some word about Rick?"

"Agent Shipton has requested that you perform some analyses relating to the case she's working. I've already approved it, but we wanted to get your thoughts before we announce it to the rest of your section. "Lainey nodded her agreement.

Hayley reached for the cooler sitting beside her chair and placed it on the table. "Lainey, there are two samples in here. One is a blood collection tube and the other is a plant, a rare orchid to be specific."

What's the context for these samples? Lainey asked, starting to be a little concerned.

Hayley and Vienna traded glances for a few seconds, then Vienna nodded, "Give her everything"

Hayley passed the cooler across the table. "The blood sample is from Kate Beckett, it was taken at 22:19 hours immediately after the incident. There were a total of four vials collected. One was used around 23:00 to perform a standard toxicology screen and the others were placed in liquid nitrogen for long term storage in the evidence room. This one was retrieved from storage at 08:15 this morning.

"The second sample is an orchid corsage that was found on the floor of the bedroom in the suite where the incident occurred. POI Beckett was observed to repeatedly inhale the scent of the flower from very close range. The sniffing of the flower seemed to coincide with radical changes in POI Beckett's behavior that may have contributed to the death of Sergei Alexyev."

Hayley sat rigidly upright, face impassive, arms clasped tightly. Javier leaned over and whispered, "Let's get out of here." Hayley managed to nod and Javier helped her to her feet. "I think she needs a few minutes of privacy. She's had a rough week."

Vienna gave her a sympathetic smile as she met Hayley at her office door. "Hayley, you've convinced me. Now I need a name. You give me a name and Lainey gives me a smoking gun and I will end this. They will pay."

Lainey also stopped for a few words and a hug . "Hayley, I'm not one for making wild promises. But I promise you this – If it's there, I will find it." And then she was gone, striding purposefully toward her lab and already texting her key staff: 911 My Office – NOW.


	52. Chapter 52

Canada's Yukon Territory Rick's Cabin Monday Morning October 24

Kate awoke with start. Without moving anything other than partially closed eyes, she scanned the room for intruders. Seeing nothing untoward, She slid her Glock from under her pillow, rolled out of the overstuffed chair she slept in and slowly and gracefully rose to a crouch, arms extended in the classic Weaver Stance. She made it to the door and gradually worked her way around the jamb only to be face to face with an advancing human figure perhaps a meter away. "HALT, FBI."

The response was mostly unexpected; a heartfelt shriek from the intruder and a volley of canned goods, frozen foods and vegetables, worthy of the Grenadier Guards. When she regained her balance, Kate found herself looking at the business end of a rather large handgun. A thrill of fear rolled down her body.

"I'd really appreciate it if you ladies didn't shoot each other." Rick's voice broke the deadly tension, giving the two women a chance to stand down and assess the situation.

"Kayla?"

"Kate?"

"What were you doing sneaking around out here in the middle of the night?" Kate demanded.

"Sneaking! I wasn't sneaking. I was just being quiet so you could get some sleep. You two had a rough night."

"Yeah, you're right about that."

"How many nightmares did Rick have" Kayla asked, seeing that Rick had returned to the bedroom.

"Three, the last one was the worst."

"I know, I saw that one," Kayla admitted.

"You were spying on me?"

"Observing," Kayla corrected her, "I'm leaving this morning and I wanted to make sure Rick was in good hands."

"And the verdict is?"

"I cried the whole time."

Kate's heart sank, "I'm sorry, Kayla."

"No, no, they were happy tears. You two have something so special that it defies description."

"Had," Kate said sadly.

"No, have. I saw how he responded to your touch. Just a few seconds after you started rubbing his hand he was completely calm."

"It could have been anyone," Kate argued, not very strenuously.

"You know better than that." Kayla scolded, "He certainly didn't respond to me that way yesterday before you showed up."

"I'd love for that to be true." Kate said wistfully.

"Take it to the bank sister," Kayla responded with a grin, "But I'm sure you've noticed he can be a bit of a child sometimes."

"Of course, So?"

"So, as soon as I'm gone, he's going to act out, he's going to push your buttons, he's going to try your patience, but most of all he's going to try to push you away."

"But why?"

"Because he's conflicted, on the one hand his kinder, gentler side wants nothing more than to take you in his arms and tell you he forgives you and everything will be all right. On the other hand, he has to face the fact that your actions have virtually destroyed his life's work, not to mention a relationship that he hoped would be forever. That side is going to tell him that forgiving you is breaking faith with the people that you've put in danger."

Kate buried her face in her hands, "What am I going to do, Kayla?"

"If you want it, fight for it. Now help me put up these groceries. Then I'll show you how to change Rick's dressing and I'll head out."

Rick groaned when the two women entered his room with a stack of bandages, a basin of hot soapy water and several towels. Kate went to the head of the bed to place the basin on the nightstand as Kayla helped Rick to sit up with his feet dangling off the foot of the bed. As usual, Rick was wearing one of his Marine Corps t-shirts and Kate couldn't help but admire the broad back and well-muscled arms and shoulders.

Kayla helped him raise his arms enough to slip the t-shirt over his head. Kate gasped in horror as she realized what she was seeing. Rick's back was disfigured by dozens of scars, round puckered scars and long, thick ropy scars. She sank to her knees, eyes wide in shock. "My God, Rick, who did this to you?"

Rick shook his head, "Not now Agent Beckett."

"Is that why you always wear a t-shirt to bed?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Why?"

"A lot of women I've known, got all freaked out and left."

"Let's get this dressing changed so I can hit the trail," Kayla prompted.

Soon, the dressing was changed and Kayla pronounced herself satisfied. "The inflammation had gone down considerably. That means the antibiotic is working. If you behave yourself and if you continue to improve, we'll talk about getting you out of that bed for longer periods of time when I come back on Wednesday."

"Got it," Rick promised, "No fooling around. Somehow I don' think that will be a problem as long as Agent Beckett is here." He stole a quick glance at Kate to see if she had caught the double entendre. She had.

Kate turned and marched back into the cabin, leaving Rick standing alone in the snow. He found her standing at his door with her medical supplies. "Come lie down and I'll start your IV, then I'll cook breakfast if you're hungry."

"It'd take someone a lot sicker than me to turn down your cooking, Agent Beckett."

"Is that the only nice thing that you can say to me? Ever since I've been here, all I've gotten is sarcasm, insults and innuendo."

"It's a start," he answered, and therewith he learned two important lessons that would stand him in good stead for many years. Kate Beckett had a remarkable command of invective, and if you pushed her too far, she would fight.

After five minutes or so, she came up for air and switched back to normal conversational English. Do you have any idea Castle? Any idea at all what it's like to have your best friend spit in your face and call you a 'despicable cheating slut'? Do you know what it's like to have the person you love above all else call you a 'psycho nymphomaniac? Do you, Mr. Castle?"

No, I don't know, because you see Agent Beckett, I've never cheated."

"Eeeeeiiii, Kate screamed in frustration, and flung the skillet full of scrambled eggs down on the table and stood over him breathing hard.

"There's one thing that's been bothering me Agent Beckett, do you think you might clear it up for me? Kate didn't answer. "I'll take that as a yes. "You know the story about how the severity of your wounds prevented you from having sex? Was that real, or were you just stringing me along until an acceptable fuck buddy showed up?

Kate shrieked in rage and flung the skillet full of hot scrambled eggs straight into his face. She ran into the guest-room slamming the door behind her. Rick heard the grating of the key in the lock, and the sound of Kate sobbing.

He hobbled over to the door and knocked firmly. He tried several more times with increasing urgency. There was no answer, only a renewed spate of crying. Eventually, he gave up and returned to the kitchen to scrape the remains of his breakfast off his shirt and ferret out the eggy shrapnel. It's a good thing she didn't throw the whole skillet. That would've left a mark. 


	53. Chapter 53

Tampa Vienna's Office Orion Institute Monday Noon October 24 Vienna tossed back two migraine pills and washed them down with a glass of water from the carafe on the small table behind her desk. It's way too early for a headache. I have a feeling it's going to get worse. Rick where are you? Are you even still alive? I need you, now more than ever. A discreet knock interrupted her musings. "Come in," she called, and two men entered.

George McWhorter was Orion's Corporate Counsel. A tall, spare man with graying brown hair and piercing brown eyes, he had been with Orion from the beginning and in Vienna's opinion, worth every penny of his princely salary.

His companion, Paul Braden was Orion's Chief Financial Officer. He was a relative newcomer, having been with Orion for a mere seven years. Short and broad with a perennially pugnacious attitude, his skills were such that fully twenty per cent of Orion's annual income came from his adroit handling of Orion's cash reserve.

"Please have a seat, lunch will be here shortly." Once seated, Vienna cut right to the chase. "Can we do it?" Neither man bothered to comment on the impending business transaction. Lindsey Graham III had painted a big red bullseye on his back when he deliberately suppressed evidence that could have cleared Rick.

As usual, Paul Braden was the first to speak. "We have current locations on all seven minority stockholders. As soon as George finishes the paperwork, we'll go make our pitch. We need to take care of the funding soon."

"When?" Vienna asked.  
"No time like the present." He busied himself with his laptop for several seconds, then slid the device across the table to Vienna. "You know the drill, pin number then password."  
She entered the required information, clicked on the 'Confirm Transfer' button and thereby transferred $21,000,000 from Orion to her personal account. "You can go ahead and cut the checks for the minority shareholders. $3,000,000 each"  
George nodded. Lunch arrived and they dove into the Institute's justly famous sandwiches, piled high with homemade pastrami and all the trimmings. The conversation during lunch turned to generalities and small talk, each of them thinking how strange the meeting seemed without Rick. The people in the room represented a large portion of Orion's brain trust, but Rick Castle was its heart and soul.

Eventually, the scraps were cleared and Vienna nodded to George to continue. "We can do it. "He stated confidently. "The corporate charter has holes I could drive a bus through. It's almost as if it was written to invite a hostile takeover. In fact, I'm surprised that someone hasn't tried it before. The transfer papers are ready to go as soon as we get the minority shareholders to sign up."

"Thank you, excellent work."

"As usual?" George needled.

"As always." Vienna conceded.

A discrete knock sounded from the door of her office and Vienna glanced up from the pile of work that had accumulated while Rick was in the hospital. Her heart rate spiked hard when she saw that the caller was Lainey Parrish. Could she possibly be done? Could it possibly be that easy? "Good morning Lainey, wow that was fast."

"Vienna," Lainey replied. "We decided to do the orchid first, since it's the most perishable, and yes, we're finished with the initial assessment.

"And?"

"There is a very fine white particulate. The particles are so small that they are almost invisible. There is a fairly heavy coating of them on the orchid."

"So what is it?" Vienna felt her pulse leap.

"It's not orchid pollen, I know that for sure." Lainey stated. She paused as if marshaling her thoughts.

Vienna, of course, noticed the slight hesitation. "What is it Lainie? Give it to me straight."

The same particulate is on every piece of evidence that was collected in the restaurant. Kate's dress, the table cloth, silverware, dishes, the rolls in the breadbasket, everything. It was even on Hayley and Javier's clothing. There's no way it was unique to Kate."

"Tawagoto!" Vienna growled. Then she massaged her temples, trying to beat back the headache that had dogged her all morning. "So, what now?"

"My spidey senses are tingling." She and Vienna shared a look at the reminder of the author of that phrase.

"Too much coincidence to be coincidence?" Vienna's spidey senses were revving up as well.

"I think you should run this down. We need to know for sure what it is. At least we'll be able to not worry about it any more."

Lainie flashed her first smile of the day, albeit a rather subdued one. "On it, Dr. O'Malley is already working on it. Dr. Jennifer O'Malley was one of Lainie's senior scientists; the lab's resident expert in spectroscopy and electron microscopy.

"How about the blood sample?" Vienna asked hopefully

"Kev's on it." Lainie chuckled. When I left, he was sitting at his desk muttering to himself in Gaelic. That usually means he's on to something."

Vienna nodded agreement. Dr. Kevin Ryan was another of Lainie's senior scientists. A former Lieutenant in the Irish guards with a Cambridge degree in molecular biology, he would not be rushed.

"At least, it can't get any worse."

But it did. 


	54. Chapter 54

Rick's Cabin Monday Noon October 24

They say that when you're not the lead dog of the pack, the view never changes. Rick Castle, upon extended reflection, could safely claim to understand that statement at a metaphysical level. Damn but my ass hurts, how much longer can she stay in there anyway. I didn't think any woman could go seven hours without a potty break.

Kate had locked herself in the guest-room 7 hours earlier. He had planted his now-aching buttocks in a chair outside the aforesaid door about ten minutes after she went into the bedroom and there he remained. The time had passed excruciatingly slowly. First he observed the door's stout construction, which pretty much ruled out the breakdown the door option. Then he turned to a much more radical solution: burning the door down. What's the ignition temperature of air-dried spruce anyway? Maybe that's a little over the top.

A faint noise alerted him to movement in the guest-room, followed quickly by the sound of a key in the lock. The door eased open, and Kate slipped into the kitchen. "Oh." She started a bit as she realized Rick was watching from his perch on a dining room chair.

"Agent Bec…."

"Not now, Rick, I have to pee." She darted toward the bathroom.

"Right behind you," he called as she disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

When he returned, she was standing in the kitchen brewing a cup of coffee. "Want one?" she asked with a hint of a smile.

"Yes," he answered with matching expression`, "I would love one." He lowered himself with a sharp cry of pain into a chair at the dining table. "I think my doctor would scold me severely for being out of bed so long."

"How long were you out here?" Kate asked.

"The whole time," he responded with a grimace.

Suddenly, she was on her knees by his feet. "You were out here the whole time?" she demanded.

He nodded.

"In this chair?" she clarified as if to confirm his lunacy.

"Yep.

Rick, what were you thinking? You're going to kill yourself!"

"If I survive long enough to defeat what's coming, then my life is of little account after that."

"Rick, why are you talking like that, you're scaring me?" She cried as she tried to wiggle into his arms. He fended her off gently, and she collapsed onto the floor. The only sign of her weeping was the barely discernible tremor of her shoulders.

"I'm going to lie back down, Agent Beckett. Come in and sit a spell if you want. Rick struggled to stand (he really had seriously overdone it today)."

Walking was its own kind of fiery torture, each lurching movement sending rivers of pure unadulterated pain racing from neuron to neuron, over and over, again and again until his tight lipped control was not so tight-lipped and his agonized cries tore Kate's heart to shreds. She had to fight the urge to help, but she knew from experience that he would not only resist but resent the offer.

As Rick disappeared into the bedroom, Kate dried her tears and turned to follow. Rick collapsed onto the bed, but when he tried to lift his feet, the effort was more than his battered body had to offer.

Kate stepped forward. "Kate" his eyes were closed and he wasn't aware that she was next to his bedside, so he startled when she answered.

"Yes, Rick"

"Could…er…would you help me lift my legs onto the bed….Please?"

"Sure," she replied, "how do you want to do this, one at a time or both at once?"

"Both," he rasped out through clenched teeth.

"Okay." He managed to eke out a smile for the sight of her slender body quivering with effort and determination, and he swore that even if he had to help more than was wise, that she would get his legs on that damned bed. In the end her strength was just sufficient and she stood back, hair in wild disarray, clothing tousled, covered in sweat and her hand half raised in victory, daring those legs to slip back off the bed.

"Let me get your IV, you can sleep while it runs in."

"All right," he was asleep before she could gather up her supplies.

Kate returned to the kitchen and sat down with her coffee and a toaster pastry she found hiding in the pantry.

She thought back over the morning, while there was no thawing on the question of building their relationship back to where it had been, they had at least been able to spend some time in the same room without snarling and clawing at each other, Most meaningful of all, he had used her given name, not just once but twice. Perhaps the fading embers could once again be stirred into a roaring fire. 


	55. Chapter 55

Tampa Federal Court House Monday Noon October 24

"I can't believe that moron wouldn't drop the charges," Hayley seethed as she and Javier walked back to her office from their meeting with the US Attorney. They had presented the data supporting Rick's innocence, highlighted by the footage of the hypothesized bullet wound. To say that the bullet hypothesis met with hostility, is akin to saying that sharks are fish with large teeth. The US Attorney threatened to destroy the career of anyone in the FBI who was so foolish as to publicize such an infamous theory.

The federal judge who was assigned Rick's case had been in attendance as well, and added his two cents, the video secured by Channel 11 would be ruled inadmissible in court.

As the room cleared, two women drifted together at the rear of room and stopped to chat. The older of the two led her companion into a convenient side room. She shook her head sadly. "I sincerely doubt that was an example of what Messers. Adams, Madison and Jefferson had in mind when they set up the Federal Judiciary."

"Pretty safe bet," Her younger companion agreed. "I'm glad you came Renny. You saw what we're up against."

"Indeed dear girl," Renaissance Pinckney (who also happened to be the senior Senator from the state of Florida) agreed with her friend. I'll talk to Corrine tonight (Corrine Essing-Teriani Representative from Florida's Fourteenth Congressional District and chair of the House Judiciary Committee.) and a bill of impeachment for each of those estimable gentlemen will be in the hopper by Friday.

"Thank you Renny, How can I ever repay you?"

The senator chuckled. "You know the rules. Dear Girl. You get your help and I get a name. A young woman ready to expand her horizons, to be nurtured and groomed for whatever she can attain. A candidate for the League of Extraordinary women."

"Actually," Vienna responded, I already have someone in mind. The Agent who developed the evidence in this case and presented it at the meeting we just left.

"Aaah, Agent Shipton I believe"

"Vienna nodded, "Of course she doesn't work for me, you'll have to negotiate with Roy."

"I do believe you may have just paid your dues Ms. Takayoshi."

####

Hayley arrived at the autopsy lab slightly out of breath, having run the entire distance from her office when Roy's call came that the second shot autopsy was about to begin. The Chief medical examiner rolled the gurney with the victim's body to the center of the observation theater and tugged down the zipper. When he pulled back the flaps a large sigh arose from the audience. There was no longer any need for speculation. There was no bullet hole in the upper right chest of Sergei Alexyev.


	56. Chapter 56

Rick's Cabin Monday Evening October 24

Rick blinked as a late afternoon sunbeam slid across the sharp planes of his face. Nearly evening. he deduced from the angle of the sun. The next item on the agenda was a pain inventory, and there, he was pleasantly surprised. The pain was significantly diminished after his bonehead stunt earlier in the day. God, he hoped Kate didn't tell Kayla about his latest brain fade.

Actually, the pain was a notch or two below where he would have expected. A quick glance at the IV pole beside the bed, revealed a half liter of 5% Dextrose connected to his pick line along with one of the small add-on bags. Only this one had a blue label instead of the green one his Antibiotic came with.

Hmmmh, painkillers, no doubt. Nurse Kate was still trying to destroy what little man cred he had left. His nurse was sound asleep in the big armchair that shared the space with his bed. Her eyes flew open, when she felt the pressure of his gaze. "Rick, are you okay?"

"I'm fine"

"You've got to be hungry, can I fix you something to eat?"

"As long as it's not scrambled eggs."

I'll make an omelet, It hangs together better, and it's easier to clean up." She grinned.

I don't think I want to face an egg of any type for a while.

I started some vegetable soup this afternoon, how about some of that?"

"That'd be great. I can almost taste it now."

Kate smiled softly at the compliment. "Rick, would you go shower and change while dinner is cooking. I need to change the bedding and do some laundry after dinner."

"All right, I might need help."

"Don't be a baby Rick, I think you can handle it."

"You're a hard woman," he grumped off down the hall toward the bathroom.

Kate handed Rick a steaming mug of tea and set her own on the broad wooden arm of her chair. The domestic chores were done, meals prepared and eaten and courage summoned to face the questions of life or death, never or forever, which had import well beyond the rustic walls of a mountain cabin. It was time.

As usual, Kate spoke first. "Rick, can we talk?"

"Yes as long as it doesn't involve eggs."

"No, no eggs. I would also like to avoid any discussion of Mr. Alexyev."

Rick cleared his throat to respond, but Kate beat him to it. "Just for tonight, please? There's so many other questions that need to be answered. But we never seem to get to them. It's always Alexyev.

"All right Kate, Alexyev's out. What's on the table then?"

"Anything prior to my meeting Alexyev at the end of the auction." She answered. "I also think we should go through it chronologically."

"Works for me."

"Tell me about the Wednesday before the auction." Kate prompted.

"Okay, First thing that morning, I had a meeting to discuss a project to renovate a ship we just bought. Then I drove out to the University to teach one of my classes. I met Javier at the University and we drove together over to the port to look at a dockyard we're negotiating to buy. Javier was with me because he needed to get started on the security plan for the facility. On the way back, we stopped at the River Walk for lunch and I asked Javier if he minded if I did a little shopping. Then I dropped…."

"Wait a minute Mr. Castle, where exactly did you go shopping?"

"Uhm, Tiffany's

"What did you buy?"

"A – uhm – ring."

"Oh Okay," Wait, Rick only owns two pieces of jewelry, His MIT Class ring and his Ranger School class ring. There wouldn't have been any reason for him to buy me anything at that time, so what was that all about? A sudden thought took root. No way, No, No, He wouldn't, He didn't

"Rick?"

"Yes?"

"Was the ring by any chance a diamond?"

"Nope not a diamond. Why all the interest in this silly ring?"

"Just curious. Where is it now?"

"I don't know, it's lying around somewhere."

"You never gave it to …?"

"Kate, can we get back on topic."

"Yeah, yeah."

"So after I dropped Javier off at the institute, I went home and started dinner."

"You were in such a good mood when I got home." Kate said wistfully, "And then I had to ruin it all."

"Yeah, pretty much the way I remember it. What precipitated that whole thing anyway?"

"There was a senior agent in another section that had been on my case since we first met. She told everyone that I was your mistress, and Wednesday, she asked me, in front of everyone in the break room, how much you were paying me for sex."

"I can see where that would stoke your fire a bit." Rick acknowledged. "But how did I end up getting blamed for it?"

"Rick, we agreed to put everything on the table tonight, so I'll just tell you straight out, you frighten me."

"Huh? I would never…"

"Please, let me finish...Please?" One quick nod told her to continue. "After that first weekend, I thought you were the kindest, bravest, most loving man I had ever met. Then I got scared. I thought of all the men who had left me after the first date, sometimes even during the first date. I figured there must be something wrong with me, something fundamentally broken in my soul."

"And then you came along. Things were going well, but I knew that sooner or later you'd leave too. That you'd leave and break my heart and I'd never recover."

"Kate, I'd never leave…"

"You're thinking of leaving right now…aren't you?" she reminded him.

"That's different."

"How is that different?" She asked flatly. "Unconditional can't mean one thing to me and something else entirely to you."

"Fair point," He acknowledged. "I'll think on it."

"Okay, I guess. Anyway, a lot of things just seemed to come to a breaking point Wednesday evening. The stress of wondering when you were going to pull the inevitable disappearing act, the fact that I seemed to be losing my identity and becoming 'Rick Castle's Kept Woman' and some other things just pushed me over the edge."

"You need to talk to me about these things Kate, before everything goes up in flames." Rick admonished gently.

"I'm not exactly the poster child for relationship skills am I?" She grinned ruefully.

"No," he agreed, "But you're getting better. The fact that we're sitting here having this discussion is evidence of that."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, may I ask a question?" Kate nodded briefly. "What was the issue with the charity auction and not going on a date with me?"

"Rick, I wanted to go out with you, so, so much. If you had asked me for any other night than Friday, I would have gone. But the auction was special. I'd been in it for six years straight, and brought in the most money every year. It was pretty much the only validation I ever got as a woman. I know that sounds pathetic…."

"That's why you wouldn't let me go and bid." Rick interrupted.

"Yeah."

"Didn't exactly win any medals for communication, did we?"

"No," She grinned sheepishly. "May I ask a question?" At his nod, she continued. "Why were you so hung up on the Friday thing? We could have gone out any time."

"I had something special planned." Kate thought she detected an overtone of sadness in his answer.

"But that doesn't explain why…"

"VERY special. And a free Friday afternoon and evening was an essential part of the logistics, Can we go on to another topic, please?"

"Sure, your turn."

"Why didn't you answer my call Wednesday after you left, I know you declined the call."

"I thought you couldn't be as wonderful as you seemed, and I knew then that you had feet of clay like every other man. I've never felt pain like that before.

"I'm sorry Kate, I didn't mean to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

"I know," she shook her head sadly. "There's something else that scared me about it."

"What was that?" he asked, puzzled.

"I liked it."

"You liked it?" Then why all the fuss, for Chrissakes?"

"It would've made me even more dependent on you."

Rick started to protest, but she waved him silent.

"Worst of all, it reminded me of Drew. It made me wonder if I somehow made him think I enjoyed it, or even asked for it, Or maybe I did something so debauched that it has subconsciously haunted me all these years.

"Kate it wasn't your fault, you were unconscious."

She shrugged. "I don't know that. All I really know is that I don't remember it"

"What are you saying, Kate?"

Rick's tone was harsh, harsher than she had heard since yesterday. Oh damn, why didn't I keep my mouth shut? Things were going well, and now I've totally fucked it up. He'll never be able to understand about Alexyev now. "I..I'm saying that every sexual encounter has involved pain, I knew what Alexyev was as soon as I met him. I thought I could handle him. Drink, Dinner, Drive home, Find you and try to talk things out. But…."

"But you decided that since you were all dressed up with no place to go, you might as well get in a little quickie with the pain master."

"Damn you Castle!" Kate flung herself at Rick, her fist caught him full in the face, then a knee in the ribs as she landed on the bed next to him.

"Aieee!" The breathtaking agony of her knee impacting his splintered ribs drove everything from his mind except the blessed nothing of unconsciousness.

Kate got in a few more licks before her fury abated enough to realize she was beating the crap out of an unconscious man. "Oh shit, Rick?"

The man under her groaned "Hell of a right hook there, Sparrow Hawk."

"Rick? Omigod you're alright, I mean you're… a jackass. I thought we were over the cruel sarcasm thing!"

"Sorry", he groaned again.

"Your being sorry doesn't butter any biscuits for me Mr. Castle. I want it stopped. Now. Never, ever again, do you hear me?"

"Okay, truce?"

"Truce!" 


	57. Chapter 57

Tampa Orion Institute Monday Evening October 24

"That's impossible," Vienna snapped. "A bullet wound doesn't just disappear."

"How sure are you of your identification of the dark spot on the film? It looked a bit grainy to me." The woman at the other end of the connection stripped her heels off and propped her feet on the coffee table before lifting her tablet back onto her lap.

"You're home." Vienna observed, recognizing the background.

"You caught me just as I walked in the door. Now back to my earlier question."

"If Javier says it's a bullet strike, then I will conduct myself accordingly."

The woman on Vienna's screen reached up and tugged loose several hairpins, releasing a cascade of soft strawberry blonde curls from the tight bun that held them captive.

Vienna smiled. The sight of Jordan Shaw, Attorney General of the United States with her hair down was a privilege shared only by a select few.

Why don't you have the video computer-enhanced?" "Jordan asked.

"We're, looking for someone with the capability and the credibility we need." Vienna admitted.

Jordan shifted focus for a second, tapping and swiping as she carried out a quick search. "Here, I just sent you a link to the person you need."

"Thank you. Nyla Thibodeaux?"

"Yep, she runs the image processing section at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena. She's done work for us before."

"Good, huh?"

"Scary good."

"Changing the subject, what are you going to do about the lawsuit" Vienna asked.

Jordan grimaced, "The best outcome is to prove Rick's innocence. Then the lawsuit goes up in smoke. Barring that, the Solicitor General will be in Tampa next week to fight to prevent the Russians from taking any intellectual property out of Orion, should we lose the lawsuit."

"Good enough, Tell Vickie 'good hunting' and she owes me a couple of Wolf in the Weeds."

"What?"Jordan puzzled.

"Long story,"

"Ooooookay. One last thing, still no word on Rick or Kate?"

"Nope, not a trace. Hayley is convinced that Kate is looking for Rick.

"Think she'll find him?"

"I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

"How about you and George call me tomorrow after he gets out of the arraignment."

"Sure, good night, Jordan.

"Good night Vienna."

Tampa Hayley's Apartment Monday Evening October 24

"I thought it might be a good time to introduce you to one of my sinful pleasures." Hayley's voice floated around the corner from the kitchen.

"What would that be?" Javier asked from his seat on her couch.

"It's a surprise. Let me finish getting ready and I'll be right in."

"Okay" This could be interesting. Sinful pleasure…sinful pleasure…think Javier, think…what could it be …full body massage …maybe…hopefully. "Hayley?"

"Yes."

"Does your guilty pleasure involve relaxation?"

"Oh yes," she replied in the best sultry voice she could manage. "Most relaxing thing I know."

What am I going to do with this woman, I don't think we're really ready for the kinky sex thing, but I don't want her to think I'm not interested. "Is chocolate sauce involved" He called out.

"Not necessarily," Hayley giggled, "But, I can probably scrounge some up if you'd like."

"No, don't bother, I'm sure it's ...uh...Just as delicious without."

"Okay, how about some whipped cream?"

So that's it, the classic whipped cream bikini thing. "Yeah sure, got any cherries?"

"Oh, Mr. Esposito, I like the way you think. Ready or not, here I come.

Oh dear God, I don't think…."What the Hell?" He burst out. Hayley was wearing the exact same outfit as when she left. "I don't understand."

Hayley halted abruptly in the middle of her living room, eyes wide with surprise. "What don't you understand?"

He pointed to the two frosted mugs she was carrying, each topped with a dollop of whipped cream and crowned with a cherry. "What are those?" He asked in the middle of a coughing spell.

Hayley's puzzlement still evident, she replied, "Root Beer Floats, what did you think they were?"

Instead of answering, Javier broke out in hysterical laughter and quickly tears were streaming down his face.

"What the heck is so freaking funny about root beer floats?" Hayley demanded. Then, rerunning the conversation through her mind, she realized exactly what was funny. "Mr. Esposito, you thought I was talking about…?"

He nodded weakly, gales of laughter not being conducive to deep conversation.

Sometime later, Javier speared the cherry lying alone at the bottom of his now empty mug.

"You weren't too disappointed were you?" Hayley teased. He popped the cherry into her mouth.

"Crushed."

Javier's phone dinged insistently. He shared a glance with Hayley. "It's from Vienna, I better take it." Switching his phone to 'conference' he tapped accept. "What's up Vienna?"

"Is Hayley there with you?" Vienna asked with a hint of smirk.

"Yeah, you're on speaker."

"Ev'ning Vienna"

"Good Evening Hayley. I need you two in my office first thing in the morning, Lainey's found something. 


	58. Chapter 58

Tampa Orion Institute Tuesday Morning October 25

Let's get on with it." Vienna announced as the last of the attendees filed in and took seats at her conference table. "Lainey, you have the floor."

"I would like to give everyone an update on the findings so far. We verified the Tampa PD's Tox Screen results across the board. Nothing out of normal range. In fact, if I were a physician, I would say that the results indicate a remarkably healthy woman."

"That's not all is it?" Vienna prompted.

"No, it isn't, Anyway, I did some research, and found a drug that can cause many of the same symptoms that Kate experienced, including loss of memory. That drug is called Scopolamine. It is commonly used to treat nausea, but at high dosages, it has some really weird side effects, including increased libido, loss of control of ethical and moral choice and as I mentioned earlier, loss of short term memory.

"So you're saying that Kate was telling the truth when she kept saying that she didn't remember anything that happened that night." Hayley asked hopefully.

"Uh..no." Lainey replied, "I do believe she was telling the truth. But it wasn't Scopolamine that caused it. There was no trace of it or any of its metabolites in Kate's blood."

"So where does that leave us?" Javier asked, his question tinged with frustration.

Lainey smiled, a rather exhausted, strained smile; but the first such anyone had seen in over two weeks. "I thought of something Rick told me when I first came to work here." Everyone leaned forward in anticipation. "He told me that sometimes I needed to stop being a scientist and get in touch with my inner philosopher. I didn't really understand what he meant until now."

"Care to share, Aristotle?" Vienna prompted with a dry chuckle.

"The scientific method is based on deduction; taking a bunch of disparate pieces and fitting them together to make a coherent whole. Philosophy is based on induction: taking a known whole, finding its natural fault lines, and breaking it apart a little at a time to truly understand it."

"So how does that help us to prove Rick's innocence?" Hayley asked.

"Well, at the time that it popped into my head, I was looking at Kate's blood test results, and I couldn't see a way to make them all fit together. So I sort of threw all the previous data out and started from scratch by looking for the basic classes of chemical entities that could be found in blood."

"For example?" Hayley questioned.

"Protein."

"So you looked at the overall level of protein in Kate's blood?" Vienna clarified.

"Yep."

"And?"

"High, really, really high. The kind of levels you normally see at the end of a terminal disease process."

Hayley's hand flew to her mouth, "You're saying…"

"No, Kate seems to have been perfectly healthy at the time the sample was taken. But her serum protein levels are extremely high with no apparent reason."

"Any hypotheses?" Vienna asked.

"Yes." Lainey's grin appeared.

"Care to share?" Vienna urged.

"Not yet. I need to set the stage a little more

"What's next?"

"Follow the natural fault lines. Break the generic 'protein' into the various classes of proteins and see if something slithers out from under the rock.

'"What are you holding on to Lainey? I know you, you always save the best for last." Vienna finished with a theatrical finger wagging in Lainey's direction.

Lainey's grin reappeared. "We also tested for DNA. Normally serum DNA results are extremely low, but Kate's are extremely high. A most interesting fact is that the DNA is not Kate's."

Everyone at the table sat up a bit straighter. "Whose was it?" They all burst out almost simultaneously.

"Not a who." Lainey paused for dramatic effect. "It's not human."

"Okay then what was it." Hayley asked impatiently.

"Remember the white particulate?" Everyone nodded. "Well, Vienna and I decided to check it out, even though it wasn't unique to Kate. The results were interesting to say the least. We collected the particulate from various locations around the dining room. Then Jenny examined them in the SEM (Scanning Electron Microscope) and" she tapped an icon on her tablet and the large screen at the end of the conference table flickered to life.

The screen showed a number of cylindrical objects, hexagonal in cross section and about four times as long as they were wide. They were more or less featureless except that the surface had a slight knobby texture. Somehow the objects radiated an air of menace, that had more than one person at the table catch a breath.

Lainey's grin was absent as she flicked her laser pointer at one of the objects. "What you're seeing is the outer layer of a capsule. It's composed entirely of polysaccharide."

"What is this polysaccharide stuff, is it dangerous?" Javier questioned.

"No in and of its self it's just sugar, like the crunchy shell on the outside of a Reese's Pieces candy. "It's what's inside that counts." She touched another icon and the screen changed dramatically. The view now showed a three dimensional representation of one of the cylinders in longitudinal cross section.

"These images were made with a 3D transmission electron microscope." Vienna offered with an undertone of sadness. "Rick and Lainey invented it and were going to introduce it at the Analytical Imaging Show next month."

"Yeah," Lainey surreptitiously wiped away a tear that threatened to fall. "Anyway back to our image."

"It looks like it's full of seeds." Hayley offered. Indeed the cylinder was packed with small globular bodies that looked very much like seeds."

Lainey changed the screen again with a tap, this time eliciting a series of gasps from her audience. There four objects on the screen; similar but with slight variation. Each basically consisted of a bulbous multihedral head with a tubular structure projecting from one end and four long spindly 'legs'. "Jenny used an Atomic Force Microscope to dissect these 'seeds' out of the pod. There are four of them, because we found four different versions."

"Four different versions of what?" Javier questioned.

"Viruses." Lainey announced as calmly as if she had just announced her favorite flavor of cheesecake.

"Viruses? Like at the golf course?" Hayley voiced.

"Couldn't be more different." Lainey corrected, "The golf course virus and delivery system were essentially current technology. These are an order of magnitude more sophisticated. The Lassa Virus was designed to kill, these puppies had a far more nefarious purpose in view."

"What's more nefarious than trying to kill millions of people?" Javier scoffed.

"Later," Vienna interrupted. "Let Lainey finish."

"The Lassa virus is a human pathogen, it makes people sick. These viruses are a type of virus called bacteriophages, or just phages for short. They use bacteria to reproduce and are harmless to humans."

"So what do these do?" Hayley questioned.

"Short version is they use the legs as antennae to locate a specific type of cell. They bind to the cell and contract, forcing the tube through the cell membrane and injecting its DNA into the cell. Normally the virus DNA causes the cell to reproduce the virus, but in this case it sort of reprograms the cell to react differently to stimuli. One might almost say that it changes the polarity of the cell."

Hayley was starting to feel a little sick. "What kinds of cells?"

"Brain cells." Lainey spoke gently, "Specifically three different types of neurotransmitter cells in the Limbic system and one in the cerebrum."

Again Hayley fought down a wave of nausea. Oh God Kate what is happening to you? "What do these sites do/"

"Control of the fight/flight response, impulse control, control of ethical/moral choice and memory.

Hayley suddenly stood and bolted from the room. Javier not far behind. She crashed through the door and collapsed by the bowl heaving the meager contents of her stomach in an acidic bolus of fear and regret. Javier helped her stand and handed her a wet towel to make whatever repairs she could.

When they returned, the three women went into a group hug that left Javier feeling a little left out. "I think Lainey has a couple more points, so everyone please be seated."

"Lainey, I have a couple of questions," Hailey declared.

"Shoot."

"Why didn't anyone else have the same reaction Kate did. I mean the particulate was on me and Javi sure didn't get lucky that night."

Javier opened his mouth to speak, but closed it with a snap as he caught Hayley's glare.

Lainey replied. "Not sure yet, but my money is on the flower. That particular species produces a very powerful pheromone that triggers a huge release of endorphins when sniffed, It's said to be almost addictive.

"You found the virus stuff in Kate's blood, right?

"There's one other thing that Jenny noticed. The wall thickness of the capsules varies. In fact there are three distinct sets of thicknesses. That means its kind of like a time release drug. Kate could have several more attacks over the next few weeks.

"Damn," Javier interjected, "These things are biological cluster bombs."


	59. Chapter 59

Tampa FBI Field Office Tuesday Morning October 25

Hayley returned to her office by ten, only to find a note from her boss asking her to come to his office asap. Oh crap, I'm in so much trouble. I'll bet that chief medical examiner pitched a fit when we didn't find the bullet wound.

"Agent Shipton, come in please and have a seat."

"Yes Sir." She sat nervously on the edge of her seat, back ramrod straight, and tried desperately to maintain a poker face. I didn't do anything wrong, so I'm not going to let Roy see how terrified I am at the thought of losing my job because of some politically connected asshole.

Apparently her poker face needed work. Roy chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Relax Agent Shipton, you're not in any trouble."

"I'm not?"

"No, quite the contrary. I was instructed to convey the Director's appreciation for your efforts in the Alexyev case. You've made tremendous progress in two short weeks and I for one believe that your theory of the case is essentially correct."

"Thank you, but I was totally wrong about the bullet wound."

"We'll get back to that later. First, what's your next move?

"I'm going to send the video out to see if it can be computer enhanced and Javier and I are going to the crime scene and poke around a little more. I still think we're missing something."

"Sounds like a good plan. Now about the missing bullet wound. I took the liberty of rowing in your pond a bit."

"Sir?"

"I had the ME's office pull a sample for DNA testing from the corpse in the morgue."

"How did you get known Alexyev DNA for comparison?" Hayley questioned.

"From the blood spatter on the balcony. As you suspected, the large pools of blood were from Rick Castle and droplet sized blood spatter was from Alexyev."

"Are the results in yet?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes, and we know one thing for sure. The corpse in the morgue is not Alexyev." 


	60. Chapter 60

Rick's Cabin Tuesday Morning October 25

"Rick, wake up, I need to give you your antibiotics and change your dressing," Kate shook him gently.

Kate finished changing Rick's dressing, pleased to see that the redness was completely gone and the wound seemed to be healing nicely. "If you lie back I'll start your IV." Kate suggested. "Are you going to take a nap while it runs in?"

"Nah, I seem to have a bit more energy today, so I'll tough it out."

"Can we talk while you're getting medicated?"

"Sure, what would you like to talk about?

"The scars on your back. Who did that to you?"

"Do you remember when I told you about the pilot I rescued?"

"I remember."

"Well, he was in pretty bad shape when I got him out. The militia group that had been holding him was hot on our trail with maybe a hundred men. But with his injuries, we couldn't move fast enough to stay ahead of them and they began to work their way around our flank.

We were only about five miles from the border when they spotted us and started firing. I got hit in the leg, which slowed us down even more. Then it started snowing. That was the only chance we had, so I hid the pilot and told him to not move until the next morning and then head straight west for the border. Rick paused and took a healthy swig of his coffee. "What I would've given that day for one cup of hot coffee with plenty of cream and sugar."

"What did you do then?" Kate prompted gently.

"I knew that I had to lead the pursuit away from the hiding place, so I headed north. My wound was bleeding pretty steadily, so I left a blood trail that even those morons could follow. They finally ran me down when I got too weak from blood loss to evade any more. They spent the next two days torturing me. They wanted me to sign a statement admitting that NATO was using Anthrax against the Serbs."

"I know you didn't sign," Kate stated with complete assurance, "But how did you escape?"

"The militia had kidnapped a doctor and were coercing him to serve as the medic for the group, Turns out he was working for a foreign intelligence organization, and his handler had told him to keep an eye out for me. "

"Who was he working for?" Kate asked, her obsessive search for knowledge driving her as always.

"Don't know," Rick responded "He never said and I never asked, but if I were a gambler my money would be on the Mossad."

"The Mossad had agents` in Bosnia?

"Kate, the Mossad has agents everywhere."

"So he rescued you?"

"Up to a point, he got me out of the camp and gave me a space blanket and some Russian-made combat rations. Everyone complains about the U.S.-made MRE's but the Russian ones are a hundred times worse."

"Kate tried vainly to stifle a monster yawn.

"You bored, Sparrow Hawk?" Rick teased.

"No, not at all. I'm just tired and I feel a headache coming on"

"You okay?" Rick's evident concern washed over her like a spring breeze, comforting and invigorating


	61. Chapter 61

Tampa Orion Institute Lainey's LabTuesday Afternoon

Lainey Parrish rushed out of the Admin Building as soon as Vienna's morning briefing wrapped up, shortly before noon. Pausing just outside the main entrance, she tapped out a quick text message and sent it to her entire team. All hands – Mtg. in 10, Conf Rm. Then she practically sprinted toward the Laboratory building, a little less than a quarter of a mile away.

Lainey arrived at the conference room just as Orion's food service finished setting out a lunch spread that looked like something you might find in a four-star restaurant. This must have been what Vienna was texting about earlier. There were four kinds of sandwiches, Individual bread bowls that were filled with the Institute's justly famous split pea soup and a Caesar salad, with cookies for dessert. Her staff were already lining up to fill their plates, oohing and aahing over the delicious looking food.

One of the food service workers handed Lainey a folded note as he walked out the door. She recognized the stationary immediately -Vienna. The message was short and to the point - This is the day for which Orion was created. This is the hour that you have worked and trained for. In the chronicles of the human race a page has been set aside, marked and reserved for you. The great evil must be defeated and to defeat him, we must understand his schemes and his weapons. You do not fight with guns or bombs or missiles, but you are warriors nonetheless. You do not fight solely for your family, your city, your state, or your country - you fight for humanity. Darkness shall not fall!

Lainey finished the last crumb of her dessert, stood up and walked to the head of the conference table. The lunchtime chatter died instantly as Lainey's quick scan insured that her entire team of three Senior Scientists, six Staff Scientists and ten Lab Techs was present. They were all looking at her with tense expectation, so she cleared her throat and began.

"Okay guys, I need to bring you up to date, things are going to be very interesting around here for a while and our team will be the point of the spear. Rick is still missing, at this point we're not even sure whether he's still alive. Regardless, the district attorney is still going to charge Rick with murder, in fact the arraignment is this afternoon.

The FBI is running down some leads that look promising for proving Rick's innocence. I doubt we'll need to get involved with that part of the investigation. I suppose everyone knows about the incident that happened between Rick and Ms. Beckett at the hotel." She paused for a second as everyone nodded assent. Orion was a family and not much happened in public that everyone in the organization didn't know about almost instantly.

"The FBI along with Javier and Ms. Vienna are starting to lean towards the theory that Ms. Beckett was the victim of a bioweapon of some sort." Lainey almost chuckled at the collective gasp from her team, but there was nothing at all humorous about the situation, so the incipient chuckle died on her lips.

'If there is a bioweapon involved, that's when we get the call. First we have to prove it, then identify its mode of attack, find how it was introduced into the restaurant , and find a way to counter it. I believe it may well be the greatest challenge we ever face." She took a deep breath and scanned the faces gazing at her intently. Every jaw was set, every back straight and the grim determination meter was off the scale. Satisfied, she unfolded Vienna's note and read it to her team. A low growl raced around the room, raising a bumper crop of goose bumps and sending a jolt of adrenalin racing through her system. "All right then, let's get after it."

Tampa FBI Field Office Tuesday Afternoon October 25

"Thank you, Dr. Thibodeaux, I really appreciate you helping us with this video. Good day to you as well." Hayley ended the call just as Javier walked in with a takeout box containing two salads.

"I hope you haven't had lunch yet."

"No I haven't and I kinda forgot to eat breakfast too." She admitted. "I'm starving."

"Hayley, Hayley what am I going to do with you? You know you have to feed those awesome brain cells of yours, right?"

"Right," she conceded. "Now, what did you bring me?"

Javier set one of the covered bowls in front of her and removed the lid with a flourish. "So, what do you think?"

"I think it looks amazing, what is it?"

"Goi Ga," He replied, he replied with a smug grin. "Vietnamese chicken salad."

"Pretty sure of yourself aren't you Mr. Esposito? Do you really think you can order for me and I'll automatically like it?"

"Well-actually yes.

Hayley rolled her eyes.

"Just try it," he urged.

Hayley speared a forkful of the finely chopped chicken and cabbage. "Omigod, that is so good"

"See?" Javier cheered with a victorious grin, which was so infectious that Hayley had to smile back.

"Okay, you win, but you're still full of yourself."

"Anything new on the case?" Javier asked, turning serious.

"Well, there's this new wrinkle with the missing Alexeyev. I was hoping that while we eat, you would help me go through the videos and still images of the crime scene."

"Sure, where do we start?"

"How about we brainstorm how it could be done?"

"I'll start" Javier offered. Hayley nodded acceptance and walked around her desk to the white board.

"They had the other body in the van, and unloaded it instead of Alexyev. Then they left with Alexyev's body and disposed of it"

"That's plausible, Hayley nodded, and made a note on the white board. "I have one- what if the van stopped somewhere between the crime scene and the morgue and switched bodies?"

"Good one," Javier agreed.

They continued for some time, until the whiteboard was covered with notes and they felt foggy with fatigue. "I think we need a pick-me-up," Hayley stretched and yawned.

"Want to drive over to the Blue Mug. It's the best coffee and pastries in town and only a ten minute drive." Javier offered.

"Sounds good," Hayley said, "Would you mind driving over and picking it up? I need to make a couple of phone calls."

Javier made a wide sweeping flourish with his right arm as he bowed low, "Your wish is my command, Milady."

Hayley rolled her eyes.

Hayley's first call was to Channel 11. Nyla Thibodeaux had managed to convince her that it was absolutely necessary to have the actual camera that recorded the images they were interested in. She could have obtained a warrant and simply confiscated the camera, but she wanted to play nice if the people at Channel 11 decided to cooperate.

"A woman answered, "News Channel 11, The Best of The Bay. May I Help You?"

"Special Agent Hayley Shipton, FBI, and May I speak to whoever's in charge?

"Certainly Agent Shipton, that would be Mr. Grayson, I'll transfer you.

Oh damn, that jackass must've made bail. Ten to one he won't surrender the camera.

"Agent Shipton, I thought that I made it perfectly clear that you were not allowed on this property without a warrant. So where's my warrant?"

"Sir, it would be beneficial to everyone if you surrender the camera voluntarily. You need to…"

"You know what you need Agent Shipton, learn what "Freedom of the Press' means. So now unless you have a warrant. Goodbye."

Hayley sat seething for a minute or so after she ended the call. Who does that pitiful little jerk think he is? I'll show him freedom of the press, I wonder how he'd like one of those boom mikes shoved up his ass? She took a couple of deep calming breaths before she picked up her phone again to make her next call.

"Hey Hayley. What's up?" Vienna answered.

"Vienna, I need to ask a favor."

"Of course."

"I need to go to Channel 11 tomorrow to get the camera for Dr. Thibodeaux. They're going to be difficult. I'm going to try and get a warrant this afternoon. If I get it. I'd like to borrow Javier to go with me for backup."

Vienna chuckled softly, "Is that what the cool kids are calling it these days- Backup?"

"Vienna, that was not funny." Hayley groaned.

"I'll loan you Javier on one condition."

"Okay, I'll bite. What's the condition?"

"I'd like to go with you" Vienna said without an ounce of drama or any hint as to what her purpose might be.

"Sure - If you don't mind me asking, why do you want to go to Channel 11? I'm pretty sure you'll have to talk to that insufferable little cockroach, Lindsey Grayson.

"So," Vienna detected a catch in Hayley's voice, "You've had the dubious pleasure of previous interaction with Mr. Grayson, haven't you?

"Yeah, he got 'handsy' with me at a cocktail party once. He wouldn't stop and I had to forcibly dissuade him. You too?"

"Oh yes," Vienna replied with barely concealed disgust. "He tried the 'hands on' approach once with me at a charity benefit."

"Ow, what did you do?"

"I told him I'd send my husband over to show him how sharp sushi knives are."

"Oooh, I like it" Hayley laughed.

Vienna continued, "That's not the end of the story, He tried to get even by starting a rumor that Rick and I were having an affair."

"Did that cause you any trouble?"

"You mean at home?"

"Yes"

Vienna laughed. "Not at all. The one thing that Akahiro would never believe is that Rick and I were having an affair."

"What did you do about that?" Hayley asked with gleeful anticipation.

"Nothing, but I think Rick had a little talk with him. Unfortunately he still didn't get the message"

"Dang, what a jerk!"

"His next foray was to report on the air that Orion was releasing radioactive gases into the environment."

"Oh yeah," Hayley stated after a moment's reflection, "I remember that. It was quite a flap there for a while."

"That's the understatement of the decade, agent Shipton. That fiasco cost us over a hundred million dollars. Now, he has gone too far. If we had gotten the tape that day, we would probably have been able to get the murder charge dropped."

"You never answered my earlier question, why do you want to go with us tomorrow?"

"I have a little surprise for Mr. Grayson," Vienna stated with a chilling lack of emotion. Nothing but a statement of fact as certain as death.

Hayley felt a chill run down her spine. "Vienna what are you going to do?" Hayley hoped it wasn't something rash, but then she remembered who she was talking to. Vienna Takayoshi never did anything rash. Every critical decision was made with the cold, calculating precision of a cryogenically cooled super computer.

"It's a surprise," she stated.

"Okay, we'll pick you up around nine. 


	62. Chapter 62

Rick's CabinTuesday Evening

Kate woke to a pounding headache. She raised herself on one elbow and twisted slightly for a better view of the antique clock that sat on the mantelpiece. 11 PM. "Rick?" Her plea came out soft and raspy.

"Rick awoke instantly, "What's wrong Kate?"

"I don't know, but I feel weird and I have a really bad headache that's getting worse."

"Why didn't you wake me?" Rick asked as he pulled himself up, and turned on the lamp beside the bed. A twinge of fear settled in his belly as he took in her appearance. Things had gone downhill significantly in just four hours since they had gone to bed. Kate's beautiful skin was pale and clammy, and her brow was furrowed in pain. "Let me get you something?"

"I don't like dr-dr-drugs." She gritted out.

Rick groaned in frustration. Damn woman is even more stoic about pain and doctors than I am. "Kate, I'm not talking about morphine, just something to help with the headache."

"Rick, I'm scared.

" "Scared?" If she's admitting to being scared, this must be worse than I thought. "I never have headaches."

"Never?"

"Never" Kate shook her head to emphasize her point and grimaced as a wave of pain washed across her features.

"Can you take ibuprofen?" Rick asked, his concern rising.

"I guess, I've only taken it once before when I got roughed up a little taking down a suspect."

"Just lie still, I'll be right back." He rolled out of bed and hobbled into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and in a flash of inspiration, he took a zip lock bag and filled it with ice cubes. He detoured to the bathroom to collect the pill bottle. Kate was groaning and whimpering when Rick returned. He climbed onto the bed and sat with his back against the headboard. She took the four pills he offered and took several grateful gulps of the water to wash them down. Rick offered her the icepack and placed it gently across her forehead.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Any time." He promised as he placed a chaste kiss on her forehead.

"Rick?"

"Uh huh"

"It feels a bit better already," she informed him with the barest hint of a smile.

"That's great, why don't you try to get some sleep. I'll be right here watching."

"Hold me?"

"Kate, I don…"

"Please?"

"Okay, until you fall asleep."

Rick helped her settle in the crook of his arm, and watched her features as the pain seemingly drained away. Within minutes she was asleep, her breathing deep and regular, punctuated every fourth or fifth breath by a delicate little snort that he had always found adorable.

Rick's gaze was focused on Kate, but his mind was racing. This is all very curious, I don't see how Ibuprofen could get into her system that fast. She wasn't dehydrated so the water couldn't have been the remedy. What about her statement that she never has headaches? If you take her statement at face value, which is probably a safe bet, if I know Kate, then this is more than just curious. It's downright bizarre. When Laura was having migraines, it would take her hours and hours to recover. Kate was having a really bad one, and it just disappeared, poof, just like that. Oh well, Kayla will be back tomorrow, maybe she can shed some light.

Kate's breath hitched and she moaned and shifted in her sleep. Rick was immediately on full alert. "Kate? He called out, barely above a whisper, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep. She didn't answer, but turned abruptly toward him, dropping her hand on his chest and sliding her knee up his thigh. Her movements were accompanied by moans that had more affinity with seduction than illness.

What the hell is going on?. In a flash, Kate was on him, her knees straddled his thigh. Her shirt joined his on the floor and she collapsed on his chest. As she attacked his mouth in something that would more accurately be described as an assault than a kiss, he got a good look at her eyes. Those amazing hazel orbs that were normally so full of life, sparkling with mischief and curiosity were glazed and vacant. He passed his hand in front of her eyes and- nothing, no response whatsoever.

Damn, this must be what happened at the hotel and you didn't believe her, you dumbass. "Kate? Talk to me, please?"

"Eeyahhh!" Kate screamed and sat bolt upright still straddling his thighs. "I'm on fire, it's burning me alive! I can't take it anymore!" Sobs and moans that seemed to originate in the depths of her being reverberated through the cabin. "Somebody please make it stop, please, won't somebody help me?"

The icy vacuum of space seemed to settle in Rick's chest, Kate was suffering and there was nothing he could think of to help her. He captured her hands in his and tried to pull her into a bear hug, but she began flailing her arms, landing not a few blows upon tender parts of his body. He captured one hand and pulled her forward trying to get his arms around her shoulders, but she broke free again and pounded his chest with her small fist.

"You son of a bitch," She screamed. "Why won't you help me? Please take me, now! Take me, make it go away." She started rocking her hips back and forth and in a circular motion, doing Rick's mental state no good at all. Rick finally managed to capture her in a hold that immobilized her without the possibility of doing her physical harm. He held her there, whispering every sweet nothing he could think of and crooning to her softly. She continued to struggle, seemingly for days, but in actuality was only a little over an hour. Finally, with one last convulsion, her body relaxed against his and she slipped into unconsciousness.


	63. Chapter 63

Canada's Yukon Territory Red Wolf District Hospital Tuesday Evening

"Good evening Dr. Castle."

"Right back at ya, Dr. Rodgers."

The two women laughed delightedly and embraced as only cousins who hadn't seen each other in more than a year could.

"So Emory got tired of you hanging around and gave you a degree just to get rid of you." Kayla teased her younger cousin.

The newly minted Alexis Rodgers, M.D. just shrugged. "Maybe that's why I got stuck with doing my internship in Red Wolf, instead of a happening place like Nanook Alaska."

"I'm glad you're here, Lexie." Kayla turned serious. "For more reasons than one."

"Have you heard anything?"

Kayla gave a minute shake of her head and cut her eyes toward the bush pilot who had just finished retrieving Alexis' luggage from his Dehaviland Otter. They stuffed the bags into the back of Kayla's Jeep Wrangler and headed back into town.

"Charlie's sleeping, he has an early surgery in the morning and I don't want to wake him. How about we stop for a platter of mooseburger sliders and a couple of beers. We'll talk.

"All right, no food on the plane."

A short drive, put Kayla and Alexis in a booth at Moosebrugger's bar and grill. . The waitress dropped off a couple of craft brews and the women clinked bottles.

You didn't answer my question." Alexis prompted.

Kayla checked to make sure none of the other patrons were close enough to overhear and leaned in.

"Rick's here."

"He's what?" Alexis barely controlled the volume of her response. "The whole family has been worried sick and you've had him all along?"

"He swore me to secrecy. Apparently his life is in some danger."

"Can I see him," Alexis asked eagerly.

Kayla shook her head. "He's at his cabin. I'm going to check on him tomorrow. If he's okay, I'll take you with me on Sunday."

Kayla could tell that Alexis was only slightly mollified. She played her ace. "I've got a little project for you, before you get into the rat race for real."

"Will it help Rick?"

"Yeah, I hope so."

"Okay. I'm in. What do you want me to do."

First, I want you to do a literature search and determine is there are any references to PTSD presenting as dramatically increased libido and loss of inhibition."

"Rick has…."

"No, not him, Kate Beckett."

"She's here?"

"Yeah, she tracked him down."  
Alexis whistled softly, "Wow, impressive." She was well aware how devilishly elusive Rick could be when he wanted to.

"What's the second thing?"

"In the refrigerator in the lab is a couple of blood collection tubes. I want you to wring them out like a dishrag. If there's anything weird in there, I want to know."

"The blood is her's, right?"

"Kate's yes."

"You like her, don't you?" Alexis observed a bit stiffly.

Kayla shrugged, "I think I could. If we find a logical explanation for her behavior."

Alexis stifled a yawn, "I'm really tired, where am I staying?"

"In my guesthouse, let's go." 


	64. Chapter 64

Tampa Orion Institute Wednesday Morning October 26

"Vienna?" Hayley asked from the passenger seat of the Institute's Lincoln Navigator. She was starting to get a little antsy, as the older woman had not spoken a single word since they left the Institute, fifteen minutes earlier. Javier, who was driving, could have told her that it was simply Vienna's way of grounding and centering herself before she dropped the hammer.

"Yes Hayley" Vienna finally responded.

"I'm curious as to why you told us not to worry about getting a warrant."

Vienna gave her a tight-lipped smile "It'll be better if it's a surprise."

Javier pulled into the Channel 11 parking lot and Vienna directed him to park next to a dark blue Cadillac. As they climbed out of the SUV, the driver of the Cadillac exited his vehicle walked to the front, where he stood waiting expectantly. Javier and Hayley recognized him, McKinley Phelps –previously the General Manager of Channel 11. Vienna greeted him cordially and returned his handshake.

"Ms. Takayoshi I admit to being a bit puzzled as to why you insisted that I meet you here today. Especially since I'm technically committing felony trespass."

"First off, Mr. Phelps, it's Vienna. I wouldn't worry, no one is going to be charged with trespass today. Mac shrugged and followed her up the walk toward the main entrance. Javier and Hayley followed along a few paces behind. The small entourage entered the lobby and Vienna approached the Receptionist.

"Good morning Ma'am," the smartly dressed young woman behind the desk greeted Vienna, "May I help you?"

"I need to speak to Lindsey Grayson. Immediately, if you please."

"Whom may I tell him is visiting?" the young woman asked.

"Vienna Takayoshi, I'm sure he'll remember me. We'll wait in the conference room, If He's not there in five minutes, I'll come looking for him-He doesn't want that."

Lindsey Grayson stormed into the conference room and headed straight for Vienna. She stood, staring out the window, seemingly oblivious to the man rapidly closing the twenty feet between them.

"You lunatic bitch," he shrieked, "I warned you not to come back to my station, now I'm going to teach you a lesson."

Vienna waited until the last heartbeat when her hand snaked out with the deadly perfection of a cobra strike. Lindsey had foolishly drawn his right hand back for a punch, but Vienna stepped in, catching the flying fist in the palm of her left hand with his thumb sticking up between her thumb and forefinger. A deft twist of the wrist and the residual momentum of the punch resulted in an innocent little pop, followed by an unmanly shriek as his thumb dislocated.

Vienna, was just getting warmed up. In a smooth continuation of her previous move, her right arm was already swinging in a large arc, and her open palm smacked into the outside of his elbow. This time the shriek was both louder and of longer duration.

Lindsey started to fall, and Javier jumped up to help her lower him into one of the chairs that surrounded the conference table.

"You're all crazy". He groaned. "You came here just to beat me up for not giving you the camera?"

Vienna leaned over him and purred with the sweetness of arsenic laced honey.

"I didn't beat you up because of the camera, I beat you up because you took a swing at me. No, dear Lindsey, I didn't come today to administer a thrashing, I came here today to destroy you."

"Are you going to kill me?" he shuddered and started sobbing softly.

"Of course not, it's much worse than that. Let me tell you a story."

"You have seven ex-wives, and the alimony is killing you. The station's revenues are on a downward spiral and your lifestyle is getting squeezed. So, you came up with a plan. You offered each of your ex-wives stock in lieu of alimony, telling them that you were planning to take the company public and that they would make out like bandits.

But, you had a little ace up your sleeve. Before you gave them the stock, you changed the corporate charter to say that the majority shareholder could buy back the shares at any time - at par. So you would get the stock back for practically nothing, alimony is a faded memory and life is good." She paused for a second "Did I get it right Mr. Grayson?"

The only answer was a venomous snarl.

"I'll take that as a yes." She glanced around the room. Javier and Hayley looked surprised, but not really shocked. Mac Phelps, on the other hand was red faced and trembling. The words he was obviously trying to speak boded ill for his ex-boss.

"So my staff and I paid your ex-wives a visit and briefed them on your little scam. Several of them had messages for you, but I don't generally use obscenities that vile; so you'll just have to use your imagination. Anyway, we made them a cash offer of $3,000,000 each for their shares. There was an interesting fact about your wives' shares. They altogether added up to 51.2% of outstanding shares.

Apparently you're as hopeless at math as you are at integrity. Since I was now the majority shareholder, I decided to exercise the little landmine you had buried in the corporate charter, and buy your shares. As of noon today, I am the proud and sole owner of a TV station.

At that moment, the paramedics arrived along with deputies from the Hillsborough county Sheriff's office.

Vienna addressed Javier and Hayley, "Why don't you two find that camera and get it on its way to JPL. Mr. Phelps and I have some business to discuss.


	65. Chapter 65

Wednesday Morning Canada's Yukon Territory Rick's Cabin

Rick stole a glance at the mantle clock in his small bedroom. Kate had been out for a little over an hour, and she was still sleeping soundly. He didn't want to wake her, but his position was extremely uncomfortable, seeing that it was basically an impromptu wrestling hold, designed to prevent Kate from flailing around and injuring herself in the middle of her fit? Seizure? Or whatever it was that she had last night.

He decided to risk it, and with infinite gentleness, he began to disentangle himself. Kate squirmed and fretted in her sleep, but it didn't seem as if she'd be awakening anytime soon, so he headed to the bathroom and then to the kitchen, where he brewed himself a cup of tea.

He returned to the bedroom and flopped into the large armchair. Hell of a day. At least Kate's version of the hotel incident seems validated in its entirety. I should've listened and not doubted her. I hope she'll forgive me for that. I wish Kayla were here, maybe she could make some sense out of this mess.

Kate awoke, and almost wished she hadn't. My head is pounding like the entire percussion section of the Marine Corps Band. I must've really tied one on last night. Whatever I did, I don't remember it, and that's very unusual. Kate was not a heavy drinker generally limiting herself to one drink or at most two beers or two glasses of wine. After the "Law School Incident", she didn't trust guys enough to drink with them, even moderately.

I had a terrible headache yesterday, I remember that. I remember Rick taking care of me. Then everything is just a blank until now. I wonder when now is? She willed herself to open her eyes. Still dark outside, so either same night, or next night. She twisted her neck slightly, gaining a clear view of the mantel clock, albeit at the cost of a sharp stab of pain behind her eyes. Damn headache. The time was 3:18, so I haven't been out more than a few hours. I wonder where Rick is."

"Rick?"  
###

"Kate?" Rick was at her side in an instant, "How are you feeling?"

"Is there a word that describes how you feel when you've been hit by a train, stomped into a puddle by a herd of stampeding elephants, beaten by a biker gang armed with baseball bats, struck by lightning, and killed and eaten by cannibals; all at once?" Kate responded with a drawn out groan.

"Uuumh, no. I don't think so." Rick suppressed a chuckle.

"Pity."

"You can have another Ibuprofen if you need it. Rick offered.

"Maybe in a little bit, I'm going to the girl's room first. Would you mind fixing me something cold to drink? It's a little warm in here."

"Water or iced tea?" Rick inquired.

"Water. I'll never understand your fascination with tea-flavored sugar syrup."

"Nectar of the gods sweetheart, nectar of the gods."

"Maybe if the gods lived on The Big Rock Candy Mountain instead of Olympus." Kate replied with a smirk as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and onto the floor. "Eeeek!" she squealed as she suddenly realized she was naked. She leapt back onto the bed scrambling for something to cover herself.

Rick maintained his detailed examination of the ceiling. "Your clothes are in the bathroom. Don't worry, I won't ogle."

Kate responded to Rick's suggestion with a skeptical snort, but never the less she dashed for the bathroom.

While Kate was away, Rick went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water for Kate. Then refreshed his cup of tea. Why did she say it felt hot in here? It can't be more than 60. To me, it feels downright chilly.

Kate walked out of the bathroom, clothed in her pajamas and wrapped in Rick's flannel robe. She sat on the edge of the bed nearest Rick's chair and chugged about half of the water.

"I'm sorry Rick." Kate muttered softly.

Before she could elaborate, Rick reached over and gently tilted her chin up until he could look deep in her eyes. I could stay here all night. But I guess I should deal with whatever's bothering Kate first. "Sweetheart, you don't have anything to apologize for. You were attacked. Just like the law school incident, and before that the incident when you were ten.

You didn't ask for it, you didn't want it, you certainly didn't deserve it. Evil men invaded your life and did their best to destroy you, but you survived. Not only survived but thrived. But, from now on when they come we'll treat them the way invaders deserve."

"And that is?"

"Gather up the little pieces, put them in a nice box, seal it up and send them home."

Kate started to speak, but thought better of it. Instead she simply leaned across the gap between the bed and the chair and kissed him.

Just as Kate broke the kiss, Rick's brain emerged from the endorphin induced fog that had surrounded him since Kate woke up. Her lips and the skin of her hands were hot and not the sexy kind either. "Kate, you have a fever."

"Really."

"Yeah, take those pills with the water and lie back down. I'll be back in a second."

Rick dashed for the Kitchen and pulled his emergency medical kit from the cabinet over the refrigerator. It only took a few seconds to find the digital thermometer and rip it out of its packaging.

"102.1," Rick muttered, "Damn."

"What's wrong Rick?"

"You have a fever. It's pretty high. You took the Ibuprofen, right?"

Kate nodded.

"We need to try to cool you down, so first off, let's get rid of the robe and the bed covers." Rick directed.

"Okay."

Rick disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes, returning with a huge travel mug containing ice and a pale greenish liquid.  
"What's that?" Kate asked skeptically.

"Electrolyte solution. You need to drink as much of this as you can. Even if you have to force it down. My trainer at Quantico used to say that if you don't have to pee, you're not drinking enough."

"What now?" Kate asked.

"We wait, hopefully, the Ibuprofen and the cold drink will bring it back down."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"Then we go to Plan B. Kayla will be here in about twelve hours. If we can keep your fever from spiking and keep you hydrated, then everything should be all right."

An hour later, the timer on Rick's watch awoke him from a restless sleep. The thermometer read 101.3. "Kate, wake up, you need to drink some more of this stuff."

After sucking down another fourth of the bottle, she headed for the bathroom, holding on to the furniture for support. He wanted to help badly, but he knew he would risk dismemberment if he tried to help before she asked.

"How do you feel," Rick asked when she returned.

"A tiny bit better maybe."

"Yeah, your fever is down about a degree. That's a good sign. Try to get some sleep"

Rick sat in the chair next to the bed, alternating between imploring the universe and chastising himself without mercy. This is all my fault. I should have known she would find me. I can't live without her, what if she dies? He brought his balled up fists to his temple, squeezing until his forearms trembled, but no answers came, only more recriminations. I swore I would protect her, but I've failed her over and over. I didn't protect her from Alexyev, I didn't protect her from this-fuck, I don't even know what this is, much less what to do about it.

Kate stirred in her sleep. "Rick?" She called, teeth chattering


	66. Chapter 66

Tampa Orion Institute Wednesday Afternoon October 26

Vienna rose from her desk and strolled across the large atrium. Maybe Kathy would have some freshly brewed coffee. Normally, Vienna limited herself to one cup (admittedly a rather large cup) a day. But, there was nothing normal about this day. This was the day of Rick's arraignment for murder. George McWhorter was representing Rick and he would let her know the outcome as soon as the proceedings ended.

When Vienna approached Kathy's desk, Rick's assistant lifted her gaze. Vienna noted the red-rimmed eyes and greyish pallor.

"Have you heard anything?" It had become the standard greeting within Orion since Rick disappeared.  
Vienna shook her head sadly.

He'll be okay, Ms. Vienna. "He's a rascal that one, always full of mischief, plans and schemes,"

"He is that," Vienna agreed. I'll let you know." She turned back towards her own office, clutching the precious caffeine fix that just might get her through the day.

Her phone chimed as she settled herself and swiped accept thinking it was George McWhorter.

Instead, a voice she didn't recognize whispered a greeting. "Ms. Takayoshi, I have some information. I think you will want to hear." "Who are you, and why are we whispering?"

"Let's just say I'm a friend of Mr. Castle's. I can't talk any louder. I'll be in a world of hurt if they find out I gave you this information."

"Go ahead, I'm Listening."

"The Russians just filed their lawsuit. They're demanding complete access to Orion's records so they can determine how to 'most equitably' receive their one third share. They also asked the judge to seize all your paper records and turn them over to them for examination."

Vienna's reputation for cool imperturbability was well-deserved, but at that moment, as she contemplated the absolute ruin of her life's work - likely her life as well; she felt the icy clutch of despair. If even ten per cent of the projects in Orion's R&D fell into unfriendly hands…

When George McWhorter walked in, Vienna had recovered her equilibrium and was busily scribbling notes on her tablet. A quick glance at the attorney's countenance failed to elicit any encouragement. "They did it didn't they?" She stated as much as questioned.

"Yeah, officially charged with first degree murder. Trial date is set for ninety days"

"Ninety days? For a capital murder case?"

"I asked for a year. They offered a month, Ninety days - best I could do."

"I know George, I'm actually surprised we got that much. Do you think you can do it?"

The attorney considered for a moment, "Fifty - fifty, depends on the jury. But I will tell you this, I've already got grounds for appeals that could last for years. Those two yahoos are digging themselves a deep hole and they don't really seem to care."

Vienna rocked back in her chair and her normal confidence fought it's way back to the surface. "That's it, George, they don't care. The murder charge is just a feint. It ties up our resources and if Rick were here his hands would be tied. But it's not the objective. They could care less about getting justice for Alexyev. It's the lawsuit, They want Orion."

"Vienna," George offered a bit hesitantly, especially for him. He extracted a jump drive from his inside blazer pocket and slid it across the desk to his boss. "Rick instructed me to give this to you in the event that certain conditions were met. I now believe that those conditions have been met."

"Do you.…"

"No, I don't know where he is and I don't know his state of health. He gave me this some time back."

"Why did he give it to you instead of me?" Vienna asked with a bite of acid.

George managed a tight smile, "Because I'm covered under attorney-client privilege. You are not, he was giving you plausible deniability."

"Oh, right." She pushed the drive into it's socket and in a few seconds a window popped up that contained a number of file folders.."

"You should open the files in order and execute the instructions contained within each," George explained.

The first file was labeled 'Maskirovka' and Vienna chuckled at the irony that Rick would choose the Russian word for masquerade as the title. She opened the file and began to scroll through the contents.

"Rick Castle, you son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you!" 


	67. Chapter 67

Tampa FBI Field Office Wednesday Early Afternoon October 26 Hayley ended the replay of the surveillance video from the morgue. With a frustrated sigh, she leaned back in her chair and halfheartedly chased down the last few shreds of her salad with a plastic fork. Hearing a matching sigh from her companion, she turned her head to meet his gaze. "Don't see any indication that the body was moved out of the morgue."

"Me either." Javier replied, "I didn't see any obvious sign of tampering with the film either."

"True, but I'm going to submit it to Tech anyway. They are as much wizards as Lainey and her bunch at the institute."

Javier nodded, "So what's our next move?"

"Why are you asking me?" Hayley teased, "You have soooo much more experience."

"Yeah, but I'm not a cop, no jurisdiction." He reminded her. You heard what Vienna said. I'm strictly on loan as backup."

"Just for the record, Mr. Esposito," Hayley gave him a smile that would have buckled his knees had he been standing? "You give excellent backup."

"Thank you, but—."

"To answer your question," Hayley interrupted, "I think we should go back to the hotel and take another look at the crime scene."

"I would think that dish rag has been pretty thoroughly wrung out."

"Yeah, that's true," She gave him an imploring glance "But my gut tells me there's something missing. Something that tells me that's where I need to be this afternoon."

"Okay, who am I to question your awesomely sexy gut?"

Hayley rolled her eyes, "You're impossible."  
Javier laughed, "No, that would be Rick, I'm merely difficult."

Hayley and Javier entered the lobby of the hotel, and were immediately accosted by the manager. He wasted no time on pleasantries, "When are you people going to get out of my Hotel. I can't afford to have my most expensive suite and a quarter of my dining room festooned with that hideous yellow tape!"

"Sir, my partner and I are here to wrap up the investigation. If we don't find anything, then I'm sure my boss will agree to close the crime scene." Hayley responded.

"He'd better," the manager snapped. "Otherwise he will be hearing from our lawyers."

A workman walked by the small group in the hotel lobby. He was dressed in blue coveralls with the name "Alliance HVAC" emblazoned on both front and back. A large toolbox swung easily in his right hand and his left arm trapped a cardboard box labeled "Furnace Filters" against his side. As he passed, he stole a quick glance toward Hayley.

Javier allowed himself a brief moment of smugness. After all, any male member of the species who didn't check Hayley out was either dead, visually impaired or playing for the other team. But then, Javier realized the subject's glance was not motivated by appreciation of the female form, but instead seethed with anger and hatred. The eyes went wide with shock and the subject picked up his pace, practically trotting towards a gray metal door marked MAINTENANCE PERSONNEL ONLY.

Javier covered the few paces that separated him from Hayley and touched her softly on the shoulder, interrupting her conversation with the hotel manager.

"Yes?" she asked, her expression somewhat puzzled.

"I think we've got a situation," Javier informs her urgently.

He turned to the hotel manager "What kind of maintenance are you doing on your AC system?" he demanded.

"Er-we've been having problems since the last scheduled maintenance."

"What kind of problems, "Javier asked curtly.

"Uh—there's a white powdery particulate that shows up at random intervals. It's a real nuisance, guests are starting to complain."

Hayley jumped in, "When was the last maintenance performed?"

"Thursday a month back." The manager replied.

"The day before the murder." Hayley offered.

"Yes," the Manager replied, "That day."

Hayley turned to Javier, "Okay hotshot, how did you link an A/C repairman to the Incident?"

Javier grinned, "First the A/C guy was checking you out. But not in a good way. The look he gave you was reeking with hatred. Then, His eyes went wide and he started walking a lot faster. I think he made you, saw your gun or badge, or both. Then I noticed that the toolbox he was carrying didn't seem to require much effort. A toolbox that size with the normal complement of tools would weigh 20 maybe 25 pounds. This one seemed to weigh maybe 5 pounds. Finally, the box of filters he was carrying were too small to be used in a large commercial A/C unit."

Hayley turned to the manager, "Are there any more of those guys running around?"

"Four of them came in the van, the other three were already upstairs when you arrived."

Javier and Hayley traded glances. This was shaping up to be an ugly situation; suspected terrorists, a large hotel full of innocent people, the good guys outnumbered and probably outgunned. It didn't take a genius to instantly visualize at least two dozen possible outcomes and all but one of the scenarios were very bad indeed.

"I'm calling for backup," Hayley announced, reaching for her phone. The resulting discussion was unsatisfying. The Hillsboro Sheriff's Department SWAT team was at least 40 minutes out. Tampa PD Swat Team was tied up in a hostage situation on the far side of town. Worst news of all, the FBI Hostage Rescue Team was at least an hour and a half out.

"I guess we just have to wait," Hayley decided.

"Agent Shipton," Javier leaned forward until his lips were just inches from her ear. "We may not have time to wait."

She turned to face him, her facial features betraying a bit of confusion. "What if this is the same bunch that you ran into at the mall?"

He saw the fear start to wash over her features before she ruthlessly tamped it down and put on her hard-ass agent face. "You think they might have a nuke up there?"

Javier thought for a few seconds and then shook his head. "Nah, too big and heavy to just waltz in carrying it under their arms. But they might have one of those cylinders that you captured."

"Oh crap, we need to go now!"

Javier nodded, "Do you have anything useful in the back of your car?"

"Uh—yeah actually. I have my carbine and a couple of vests in there."

"Any Flash bangs?"

"Yep, a couple, why?"

Javier shrugged, "You never know when a Flash bang will come in handy."

Hayley hurried out to retrieve the items from her Tahoe. While she was there, she toed off her heels and slipped on a pair of running shoes she kept in her car for just this eventuality.

"How about giving me some idea of the layout of this place, for example what's through that door?" Javier addressed the manager, pointing toward the door the suspect had just entered.

"The door opens into a stairwell that gives access to a service space between the drop ceiling and the roof, it's the only way in or out."

At that moment, Hayley charged back into the lobby with an arm load of Kevlar vests and her M4 carbine slung over her shoulder.

The manager tore a sheet out of the legal pad he carried in a leather portfolio. "The restaurant and Ballroom share a separate building from the rest of the hotel. It also has its own dedicated HVAC and fire suppression systems." He pulled a pen from his inside coat pocket and began to draw in short choppy strokes.

Hayley leaned over Javier's shoulder to observe and listen to the manager's running commentary.

"The door at the top of the stairwell is in the middle of the south wall of the plenum space. There's a catwalk that runs around the perimeter of the space, and an additional catwalk that bisects the space from north to south, directly in front of the door. In the Northeast and northwest corners are the air handlers for the ballroom and restaurant.

"How much vertical space do we have?" Javier questioned.

"The drop ceiling hangs eight feet below the roof."

"How big are those air handlers?" Hayley asked as she finished cinching her vest tight.

"Big. About six feet high by six feet wide and twelve feet long.

"Damn," Javier muttered. "You could hide a tank behind one of those things."

Hayley nodded somberly. It isn't a lot of fun when the other guys have cover and you don't. Turning slightly, she addressed the manager. "Can you do two things for me?"

The manager nodded. Get all your people out of this building now. Don't make any noise that would alert the perps, but get your people out and lock all the doors behind them."

"Who are these people?" The manager asked, a tremulous edge to his voice betraying his growing fear.

"Terrorists." Hayley answered. "Now, the second thing I need you to do is to meet the patrol units that should be arriving any second. Tell them to cover all the exits but not to enter the building unless they hear shots fired. Last thing, tell them if they let one of these bastards escape, I'll rip their heads off!"

"Uh, yes ma'am"

"Let's go Javier." Hayley stated imperiously as she strode toward the stairwell.

"Oui, Oui mon general." Javier smiled. Poor bastards.

Javier and Hayley had a rather brief, albeit very spirited discussion before they ascended the stairs. Both insisted that they should lead the riskiest part of the operation – the entry into the plenum space itself. Javier put forward a winning argument – Hayley had their only automatic weapon. Javier should take point and Hayley would hang back a few paces to provide covering fire if necessary. They climbed the single flight of stairs with the deadly purpose of stalking leopards, silent and focused.

Javier reached the metal door at the top and paused, straining to hear any snippets of sound from the other side. If the four tangoes inside happened to be near the door when he and Hayley went through, this takedown was likely to be short and painful. No sound at all came through, so Javier grasped the handle and twisted it gently until it stopped. He glanced back at Hayley, who gave him a thumbs up. Javier eased the door open a few inches and listened, brow crinkling in concentration. There- the metallic clatter of a dropped tool and a muffled curse. Neither sound seemed to originate from near the door, so he eased the door open and slipped through the opening as silent as a cloud shadow.

Hayley paused for a heartbeat, tensed for the brutal crash of automatic rifle fire that would signify their abject failure. No sounds assaulted her hearing, so she followed him through the narrow opening and crouched by his side.

She took a scant few seconds for her to scan the room and memorize the salient features of the space. It was much as the manager had described, a rectangular space 200 feet long by 100 wide by eight high. At the far corners sat the two box shaped air handlers. The space was crisscrossed by what appeared to be electrical conduit and the plumbing for the fire suppression system. The pipes were suspended about a foot below the ceiling.

Hayley could say without fear of contradiction that her knowledge of the mechanics of suspended ceilings bordered on abject ignorance. But gazing down the length of the dimly lit room, her knowledge level jumped up several notches. 'Suspended' meant that the flimsy looking ceiling was suspended from the roof by metal wires, each about the thickness of a pencil lead. Hayley swore under her breath.

Under normal circumstances a 200 foot shot was as sure as a royal flush beats a pair of twos in Texas Hold'em. Not with all those blasted wires hanging everywhere. There must be hundreds of them, and the odds of her being able to engage a moving target without hitting one or more of the wires were near enough to zero for betting purposes.

Javier leaned toward her, placing his lips close to her ear. "I have a bad feeling about this."

Hayley gave a frustrated shake of her head "Yeah, the only clear shot I have is straight down the center catwalk."

Javier frowned, "I think the best thing to do is for me to go down the west catwalk, directly towards the air handler. If they try to escape that way I can hopefully hold them there."

"What about me?" Hayley asked.

"The only exit to the room is through this door, one of us has to stay here and keep them from escaping until backup arrives."

She started to protest, not willing to take what she perceived as a passive role, but she remembered that Javier was an experienced combat commander (one of the best, if Rick was to be believed). This op had more affinity with his world than hers, assaulting a defended position not being a required element in the FBI agent's skill set.

She gave a shorty choppy nod, she would follow his lead.

"You need to keep them from getting across to the other air handler. If they do they can flank us from both sides and things will get really sticky."

"Got it." She replied, her jaw set in determination. The only way one of those murdering jackals would leave this room tonight would be in a body bag or over Hayley Shipton's mortal remains.

Javier gave her a grim smile, checked to make sure the magazine of his pistol was seated securely and pushed the slide back a quarter of an inch to verify that a round was chambered. He gave Hayley's shoulder a slight squeeze and he was off, moving as fast as possible consistent with silence.

Hayley crouched in front of the exit door, her carbine pointing straight down the center of the catwalk. Her gaze focused on the back wall where the glow of a work light leaked out from behind the air handler. Her peripheral vision registered that Javier was already half way down the west wall. She forced herself to turn her full attention back to the spot where the tangoes would enter her field of fire if they made a break for the door.

A short lived flurry of motion near the front of the air handler pulled her gaze to the left and a small spurt of adrenalin raced along her body. Javier snatched a flash bang from his belt, pulled the pin and with a casual overhand toss, lobbed the purple cylinder over the air handler. A scant second later, another followed. BANG…BANG, the tympanic crash of the two explosions assaulted her eardrums and she took a quick breath to steady herself as two of the terrorists charged out from behind the concealing bulk of the air handler.

They ran along the north catwalk from left to right and the woman swung ahead, as if her target were a speeding pintail on opening day of duck season, and pressed the trigger. Her sight picture looked perfect at the moment the gun fired, but she fired a fraction of a second too soon and she heard a distinct ping as the bullet nicked one of the support wires and careened off in a random ricochet that was as great a danger to herself as it was to her targets.

A sudden spate of gunfire erupted from behind the air handler, three thundering blasts that shivered the air around her. Javier's taking care of business, but what the heck is he shooting? Sounds like he hauled a cannon back there.

The two tangoes both armed with AK-47's, turned when they reached the central catwalk and sprinted directly toward Hayley.

She finally had a clear shot and carbine barked twice. Both projectiles hit center of mass. The tango staggered but kept coming. Vest! her combat instincts shrieked. The lead terrorist regained his balance and raised his weapon to return fire, but Hayley in less than a blink shifted her aim to a headshot and fired, a single shot, precise and deadly. The man's rifle clattered to the catwalk and his body collapsed, causing the second in line to trip and plunge off the edge of the catwalk, directly on to the suspended ceiling. He tried to rise and bring his rifle to bear on the single figure that blocked his escape route.

With a sudden screech of tortured metal, the ceiling gave way and a twenty foot section crashed to the ballroom floor below carrying the surviving terrorist with it. Hayley scooted along the catwalk toward the collapsed ceiling intending to determine the status of the terrorist who had fallen, but a long burst of automatic rifle fire shredded ceiling tiles and spanged off the roof in wild ricochets. She leapt back as the stream of hot lead passed way too close to her anatomy. Damn that was close!

As she considered her options, a movement in her peripheral vision attracted her attention. Javier appeared from behind the air handler and gave her a quick wave signifying that the two terrorists behind the air handler were neutralized. Permanently I hope.

Celebrate later, she admonished herself, there's still one of the bastards down in the ballroom. It only took a second to weigh her options. She slung her carbine and detached the single flash bang from her vest, pulled the pin and dropped it through the ragged hole in the ceiling. She leapt for one of the sprinkler pipes that ran parallel to the catwalk about four feet out over the suspended ceiling. For a split second she hung there, clutching the pipe with her arms extended above her head and her feet dangling just above the suspended ceiling.

The flash bang exploded and she released her hold on the pipe. For a moment it looked as if the ceiling would hold, but it trembled and everything went crashing down into the room below. In spite of the fact that she was expecting the fall, her right ankle twisted painfully, pitching her on to her side amid the tangle of wreckage from the ceiling. She realized that her carbine was trapped beneath her body and the terrorist fired a long burst, but he was still disoriented from the flash bang and it missed- barely,

Without conscious thought, her free hand snatched the Glock from its holster and a quick double tap ended the festivities.


	68. Chapter 68

Canada's Yukon Territory Wednesday Morning October 26

It was always the same when Kayla left on one of her scheduled roundabout journeys from village to village. Like one of the old-time circuit riding judges that brought law and justice to the Wild West, she spent a good deal of her time on the trail bringing her undeniable skills as a physician and her own brand of caring to people in some of the remotest spots on earth.

Her ritual began with one of the orderlies bringing her snow machine to the ER entrance and warming the engine properly. Her husband held the checklist, calling out the items one-by-one and marking them off as Kayla verified each items presence. By the time they finished, it was 06:00. She was leaving a bit earlier than normal, because of a frantic radio call that came in to the hospital only an hour earlier. Kayla was board certified in both Internal Medicine and OB/GYN and one of her patients had gone into labor around midnight. It was the couple's first child and like most first-timers the freak-out meter was in the red. She had promised to check up on Rick this afternoon, but if this delivery went south she could be tied up at the homestead for several days

The couple's homestead was about 30 kilometers away, so it would take a couple of hours for her to make the trip. Driving fast in the darkness along a narrow trail would be an excellent way to become personally acquainted with her husband's skills as a trauma surgeon.

Returning to her office, she slipped into her heated snowmobile suit and strapped on her helmet. She hesitated for a moment, then opened a tall cabinet and lifted what was obviously an aluminum gun case onto her desk. She entered the numbers 5 – 21 – 2000; the date Rick rescued her from life on the streets and gave her a future. The case emitted several distinct clicks and she removed a rifle in a leather scabbard.

Charlie gave her a quizzical look as she returned to the idling snow machine. Kayla did not usually carry a rifle on her doctor trips, feeling secure with only her well-worn Smith & Wesson .44 magnum. Today, however, something didn't feel right, something unpleasant lurked out there in the darkness. A little extra firepower couldn't hurt. She buckled the scabbard into its special brackets where a mere six inch flick would place her right hand on the stock.

There were several electrical connections to provide her suit with electrical power and then she was ready, except for a short but passionate goodbye kiss for her husband. He would worry while she was gone. He always did. There was an awful lot of wilderness to navigate before she reached her destination.

Kayla's snow machine towed a custom sled that provided ample space for survival supplies, medical supplies and equipment. Visitors were always shocked when they realized her sled was nearly as well-equipped as an ER. The only downside as far as Kayla was concerned was that the heavy sled made her snow machine handle like dog poop.

After an hour of driving, Kayla stopped and checked her GPS. Still on time and on course. 17 kilometers to go before she reached the Winton's homestead. A little less than an hour if nothing untoward happened. Before starting off again, she turned the heat off on her Snowmobile suit. It was so toasty warm that she was getting sleepy and that would just not do. The open tundra was coming to an end, she was about to enter a large stretch of dense forest that continued on past her destination. This was arguably the most dangerous leg of her trip. The trail had many turns and crashing into a grizzly was not on her agenda, rifle or no rifle.

Actually the most lethal creature in the neighborhood was likely a moose. Moose were tall enough that if she collided with one, the impact would clip its legs out from under it and fling it back over the hood of her machine and into her lap. That was as close to a worst case scenario as she could imagine.

The gage on her instrument panel indicated a wind chill factor of -20 C, and the chill was rapidly working its way through her suit. Theoretically she should feel invigorated but in total honesty she felt cold and sleepy. Oh well, maybe my teeth chattering will keep me awake. First pregnancies usually take a while so I might have to spend the night and go on to Rick's in the morning. I hope he and Kate haven't killed each other.

Fifty minutes later, she drove up to the cabin and shut down the snow machine. The front door of the cabin slammed, loudly enough to startle her. She looked up to see the young husband and soon-to-be father streaking toward her, waving his arms and screaming in total panic. "Doctor Castle, Doctor Castle come quickly. I think there's something wrong with the baby!"  
"Oh shit," Kayla muttered, "It's going to be a long day."

Wednesday Evening Canada's Yukon Territory Rick's Cabin

Kayla drew a deep breath and let it out in a sigh of relief, the baby had indeed been in a mild state of distress when she arrived. But, nothing that a little judicious turning and repositioning couldn't set right in short order. After that, the labor proceeded with a smooth inevitability that demanded little more of her than vigilance and words of encouragement.

Now she stood carrying on an internal debate. It had been a long day and she was bone weary. I don't think Rick would mind if I spend the night here and drive to his place tomorrow…..but I did promise him I would be back today. In the final analysis, the go or stay decision was just that simple. Kayla Castle was a woman who kept her promises. So she finished packing her sled, shared a quick hug with the new parents, cast a last wistful glance at the tiny jewel sleeping serenely in her mother's arms.

Kayla Nicole Winton – they named her after me. A gentle wave of emotion she had scarcely ever felt washed over her as she fastened the last catches. Charlie and I are going to have a serious talk when I get back. She slipped the Steyr Scout into its scabbard and fired the engine and she was off.

It was already dark when Rick's cabin appeared around the last bend in the trail. Kayla stopped her snowmobile and turned off the lights. After a moment's reflection, she had a tremendously, delicious evil idea. Instead of simply driving up to the house and honking the horn, she would sneak up to the house and surprise Rick and Kate; maybe get a first-hand appreciation of how her favorite love story was progressing.

The sound stole her breath away, and a glacial chill crawled its way up her spine. The chill had nothing to do with the Arctic wind. There it was again, rippling and coursing through the night air as if to deliver untold millennia worth of fear and malice to her suddenly thundering heart. Kayla had heard the sound many times, but always in the company of others or from the safety of a sturdy dwelling. Now there was nothing between her and the ancient enemy of humankind but the frigid air of the arctic night. The sound came again, and it was close, really close.

Rick's cabin was 400 meters away over open ground. There were no lights on in the cabin, and in the full dark it was almost impossible to make out any details around the structure. However, there did seem to be more movement around the structure than she would have expected. She scrabbled around under the seat and extracted a small pair of binoculars.

Focusing on the cabin, she was sure that her heart turned to stone and the acidic bite of bile seared the back of her throat. There was a human figure lying face down on the ground at the foot of the steps. The figure was motionless but she knew it was Rick. Where the heck is Kate?

Kayla swept her gaze across the front of cabin, the front door was wedged open and the binoculars clearly showed the obstruction to be the head and shoulders of a woman, undoubtedly Kate. A sudden flurry of movement near Rick caught her attention. She was sure what she was going to see from the sounds she had heard earlier. "Oh sweet Jesus," she muttered

"Wolves!"

The words spurred her to action. As best she could tell, there were ten to twelve of the beasts sitting in a rough semicircle facing Rick's body. One of the wolves darted in towards Rick, but turned aside at the last second, returning to the rest of the pack. Then another lunged forward, snapping at Rick's ankle, but stopping just short of actual contact.

They're testing him to see if he's capable of defending himself.  
The thought and the accompanying action were separated by only the merest flicker of an eyelid. The snowmobile snarled into life as Kayla twisted the throttle to the stops. She shifted the .44 mag to the right outside pocket of her. snowsuit, making it instantly accessible.

One hundred meters from the cabin she flipped on the driving lights, hoping that in typical wolf fashion, they would flee when confronted by an armed human. No such luck.

As the sled edged forward Kayla evaluated her options. Fleeing was out of the question, leaving only a life or death struggle with a pack of would be man-eaters. She took a quick inventory: one Steyr Scout rifle (7.62 mm Nato caliber), 2 loaded magazines with a total eight rounds, one Smith & Wesson model 29 .44 magnum with six rounds in the cylinder.

Her foe consisted of twelve full grown gray wolves, now sitting on their haunches facing her. The air of confidence and menace almost took her breath. "They've done this before. They've preyed on humans before. They're not afraid of me."

She brought the machine to a halt about fifty meters from the nearest canine and stepped out onto the rocky ground covered with a light dusting of snow. The wolves glowered at her, glowing yellow orbs reaching out to freeze her soul and paralyze muscle and sinew.

The momentary pall shattered and scattered in the swirling winds as Kayla summoned up her essential Castle and the rifle seemed to leap into her hands. The snick-snick of the bolt was loud in her ears and her icy gray gaze swept over the predators.

"Go for the jugular," It was as if Rick had spoken directly to her mind, and her gaze was drawn to the hulking monster in the center of the lineup. A true giant of his tribe, 150 lbs. at a guess. Kayla met his stare with one of her own, as menacing as a 110 lb. woman could manage. The Alpha, maybe if I take him first, the rest will bug out.

The wolves suddenly stood and split into three groups. One group of four swung wide to the left trotting along with studied indifference to the hated human; a second group of four moved out to the right. The third group which included the leader stood motionless, waiting for the trap to close. Kayla, however had run out of patience. The scout rifle flew to her shoulder and she centered the illuminated crosshairs on the leader's chest.

He chose that moment to launch his attack bounding forward in great leaps. The leader started his second leap and tumbled across the ground in boneless finality as a 150 grain Barnes X-bullet reamed him a new one from chest to tail-feathers. The remaining three came on ignoring the fate of their leader.

Snick-snick, Kayla's hand was a blur as she worked the bolt. The second shot followed before the first cartridge case hit the ground and her target was slammed aside by the impact.

Snick-snick, the shot missed when the third wolf swerved to avoid the carcass of its companion.

Snick-snick, her follow-up shot was dead true. She thumbed the magazine release and the empty magazine dropped free. A spare magazine was stored in a recess in the butt stock and it settled into place in the magazine well with an encouraging click. A quick flick of her wrist chambered a round and she was ready to rock.

In the seconds it had taken to reload, the fourth wolf had closed the distance and launched his final leap, mouth agape all gleaming white teeth and chilling snarl. Kayla fired, an instinct powered snap-shot, no time to aim.

Eighty pounds of dying, thrashing carnivore rammed into her, ripping the rifle from her hands and knocking her off her feet. She landed on her back and her breath rushed out from the painful impact leaving her stunned and gasping. The dead weight of the wolf lay across her thighs, pinning her in place. Her attention was rudely jerked back to the present as the snout of a wolf appeared from behind the hood of her snow machine. She tried to lever the carcass off her legs but the fall seemed to have drained her strength. The rifle was out of reach.

With adrenalin fueled desperation, she ripped the .44 from her pocket. Oh damn, eight wolves and six shots left, not looking good girl. The first wolf exploded out from behind the snow machine, Kayla fired one-handed and in the rush, she pulled her shot slightly to the right striking the creature in the throat instead of the chest.

The .44 magnum cartridge is not the most powerful cartridge that can be stuffed into a handgun, but it is arguably the most powerful that can be comfortably handled in a relatively compact gun by a person of small stature. The basis of its immense popularity, however, is the fact that with the right bullets, a cool-headed accurate shooter can reliably take any animal short of a T-Rex. A mere wolf is hardly a challenge.

The stricken wolf spun around at the impact, its head hanging by a tiny strip of skin and more wolves hurdled her sled and turned on her, two quick shots and both fell. But before she could recover from the last shot, another wolf bounded over the supply sled and sank his massive canines into her left shoulder.

The pain was beyond anything she had ever experienced. Very far beyond. A piece of trivia long buried in the depths of her memory popped up and reminded her that an adult wolf can generate a bite force of over 400 pounds.

"That's a damned lie! Gotta be at least a 1000!" she shrieked in torment as the beast clamped down even tighter on her shoulder. She knew that her projected life span was no longer measured in minutes but in breaths. She heard the sickening crunch of bone and a bolt of pain as jagged and hot as lightning tried to rip her chest apart. No longer capable of coherent thought, she fought back on the same desperation as a small animal in the clutches of a larger predator. She raised her right hand to push the wolf's head away from her shredded shoulder. Might as well try to push a glacier. The wolf bit again and her hand clenched convulsively, the hand that still grasped the Smith &Wesson with a tenacity that only death would break.

She ground the barrel deep into the animal's ear and pulled the trigger. Kayla was deluged with brain matter, blood and other things more or less unmentionable. The concussive force blew the top of the animal's skull clean off and it sailed off downrange spinning like an obscene Frisbee. "Teach you to bite me, you sorry ass mutt." She informed the quivering carcass. Then darkness claimed her. 


	69. Chapter 69

Canada's Yukon Territory Sedna River Wednesday Evening

Conservation Officer Peter Gunnison gave a weary sigh as he climbed off his snowmobile. Who would've thought that we would chase this pack of rogue wolves for ten straight days without catching so much as a glimpse? "Ten days, ten bloody days." He groused to his partner. Conservation Officer Seth Browning, just alighting from his own snowmobile, nodded in agreement.

"I guess this is as good a place as any to camp for the night." Gunnison observed.

"Yeah, plenty of nice flat spots where the chopper can land in the morning." The chopper would be bringing two replacement CO's and Gunnison and Browning would be returning home on the same aircraft. The helicopter would also bring gas and food for the new team. "Wouldn't want anything to interfere with our relief."

"Roger that." The sound reached their ears at the same moment and they both jerked upright, heads swiveling to locate the sound if it was repeated. Neither was inclined to waste breath on identifying the sound verbally. Both men were experienced and highly competent conservation officers, they knew precisely what produced the undulating wail carried so softly on the night wind. Wolves. Howling. More than a handful.

"Think that's our boys?" Browning asked. The sound occurred again, long and drawn out.

"Yep, that's them. The tracks we've been following head straight south along the river bank, and that's where I make the sound from."

"They're hunting." Browning observed.

"It's worse than that." Gunnison added, "That's the sound they make when they've cornered their prey and are going in for the kill."

"So somewhere downriver, a caribou is having a very bad day."

"Sounds that way." Gunnison stood silent for several seconds before reaching a decision "I'm going to call this in to headquarters and see if we can get the other teams in position to close in at dawn." Both men knew the stakes, the suits in Whitehorse had finally gotten excited about ten fatal wolf attacks in 13 months. A significant chunk of the province's economy was derived from tourism, and people were starting to shy away as word got out that there was an outside chance of seeing the inside of a wolf on your next fishing trip to the Yukon.

Yukon Conservation had created four two-man teams to track the wolves, now becoming known as the Kanguk River Pack. The theory was that one of the teams would cut the pack's trail and follow it relentlessly while vectoring the other three teams and helicopter borne backup to surround the man-eaters and destroy them. The tree huggers would not get a vote on this one.

Gunnison and Browning were the lucky ones. They crossed the pack's trail and took up the pursuit and nine days later they had nothing to show for it but sore bums and aching backs. Until now.

Peter Gunnison removed his headphones and packed the sat phone carefully away, before turning to his partner "Headquarters says to wait here, team 3 is about ten kilometers behind us they should be here in an hour or so. Team 2 is about twenty kilometers south, coming hard. Team 4 is 20 kilometers west. If we do this right we can pin them against the river and end this."

"Why didn't they want us to go now?" His partner queried.

"Too dangerous," Was Peter's somber reply. "Too much chance of the hunters becoming the hunted." A new sound violated the cathedral quiet of the night wind, Gunshots. At least a dozen. Coming quickly, one almost on top of the other.

"Maybe it wasn't a caribou they're after. We going?"

"No, headquarters was very clear on that subject, we stay here until dawn."

Rick's Cabin Wednesday Evening

Maybe it was the pain that jolted her back into consciousness, or perhaps it was just her subconscious prodding her to take care of business and save her friends. In her struggles, she had managed to free her legs from the dead weight of the two wolf carcasses, so she tried to roll over and instantly regretted the action. A stab of pain made her shriek in agony when she tried to push herself into a sitting position but fell back as another jolt of pain assaulted her nervous system.

She looked around with frantic need desperately praying for something to help her. At least there were no live wolves in the immediate vicinity. A handle for one of the access doors on the sled caught her attention. She used her legs to scoot herself across the ground on her back until she bumped against the sled. The handle was just in reach and she clasped it like a drowning man clutches a life preserver. By dint of pulling on the handle and pushing with her feet Kayla managed to rise to her knees and clung there panting from the exertion.

When her eyes rose above the top of her sled, the scene before her was something from a primeval nightmare. The four remaining wolves were sniffing at Rick's body and one of the beasts apparently had enough of waiting and clamped down on Rick's calf, worrying it like a terrier with a rat.

The Smith and Wesson was lying on the ground next to her knee. She reached down to retrieve it and almost toppled over when she released her hold on the sled. Damn it, she raged as bitter tears poured down her cheeks. She pounded the top of the sled in boundless frustration . A sudden click startled her and a metallic cylinder about the size of a soda can popped up and a flashing light strobed a lurid crimson against the snow.

Kayla's world spun crazily as her pain befuddled brain recognized the device. Emergency beacon. Her initial bubble of euphoria burst quickly. Damn, even if someone picks up the signal, we'll be dead long before a rescue party can get here. Scalding, bitter, tears coursed down her cheek. I'm sorry Rick, I'm so sorry.

The four remaining wolves had taken to snapping and growling at each other to determine which one would be first at the dinner table. One turned and trotted in her direction.


	70. Chapter 70

Sedna River Canada's Yukon Territory Wednesday Evening

Conservation Officer Peter Gunnison gazed to the south, the direction from which the earlier shots had come. He had not heard any further commotion from downstream, but that niggling feeling between his shoulders indicated that all was not well.  
"Pete, you okay?" his partner's question snapped him out of his musing.  
"I just have a feeling that something bad is going down. I think I'm going to call headquarters back and see if they'll let us check it out." An ear-splitting screech from the direction of his snow machine banished all thought of calling headquarters. Emergency beacons trump instructions from headquarters. Both men lunged for Gunnison's snow machine. Seth reached it first and extracted the device from Peters pack. He studied the display and handed the receiver to Peter. "It's Doctor K's beacon." Peter stated bleakly, recognizing the transponder code.  
"Where?" Seth questioned as they flung themselves onto their machines. "Two miles downstream," he replied as the engines fired and then they were streaking down the riverbank, heedless of personal safety.

Rick's Cabin Canada's Yukon Territory Wednesday Evening

Kayla Castle-Mcdermitt was a talented and experienced physician, and the detached, clinical side of her brain advanced its diagnosis without a hint of uncertainty. She was in shock and it was becoming progressively more difficult to maintain her upright position, leaning against the sled.. Her vision faded to black and the last thing she saw was the advancing wolf pause and turn his head toward the path that led up from the river. She lost her balance and tumbled over the sled landing heavily on the frozen ground.

The racing snow machines skittered to a stop about fifty meters from Rick's cabin, and the two officers bailed off, snagging their rifles in the process. "Looks like three over by the cabin and one on the right." Seth directed. A movement just past the fourth canine drew his attention. A human figure who was leaning on Dr. K's medical sled toppled to the ground and lay still.  
Peter nodded toward the cabin. "You take that lot and I'll take the one by the sled."  
Seth didn't waste his breath acknowledging the command. He simply flicked the safety lever to 'Fire' and squeezed off his first shot almost simultaneously with his partner's.

The last denizen of the Kanguk River pack died in a snarling heap as its last attack came up short.

Peter was already sprinting toward the figure by the sled. "Call for help, then check the two by the cabin." he called over his shoulder. "I'll get Dr. K." He noted the carnage around the sled and shook his head in disbelief. "That must have been a heck of a fight." He knelt beside the prone figure, heart hammering because she wasn't moving. He didn't see any injuries other than the left shoulder which was literally shredded, blood soaking her mangled snow suit.

He unzipped the snow suit and felt for the pulse point. There, a pulse, weak and thready but there.. Thank God. He slapped her cheek lightly and she whimpered but her eyes fluttered open. "Dr. K, I need you to tell me what to do." Conservation officers are trained as first responders, but this was way out of his league. She needed a trauma center and it was his responsibility to keep her alive long enough to get her there. Everyone in the district loved the spunky little medic and it was simply not acceptable for her to die on this hill tonight.

"Mor…." she whispered and he leaned in to hear more clearly.

"More what, Dr. K?

"Morphine, red drawer."

A quick search produced a morphine syrette, and he returned to her side. "Where?"

"Thigh…only half.. help pain …no sleep."

"Alright Dr. K, here we go." He plunged the injector through the snowsuit and she hissed as the needle entered her thigh and then the blessed relief of the pain-killer washed over her like a warm spring rain.

Paradoxically, the fog of the narcotic was less than the fog of pain and she marshaled her thoughts. For the first time she realized who her rescuer was. "Peter…?"

"I'm here Doc. What do I need to do for you?"

"Get … all?"

"The wolves?" Her eyelids flickered in response. "Yeah, we got them. Although you did most of the heavy lifting."

"Rick…Kate?"

"Seth's looking after them. We need to get you stable."

"Bleeding?"

"A little maybe, but it seems to have mostly stopped ."

"Shock….. extender….IV."

"He disappeared from her view, but returned soonest with a liter IV bag of ExtendRX, a synthetic blood extender and an IV administration set. Peter had never actually started an IV under field conditions but he was an attentive student and had absorbed his training well."

"Back … hand." Kayla gasped, "Good vein."

"Okay Doc, little poke. He slid the needle in like a pro and taped it down.

"Open….."

Peter opened the drip rate to max, glancing at Kayla for approval.

"Pete, I need you, we've got a situation here." Seth called urgently. 


	71. Chapter 71

Rick's Cabin Wednesday Evening October 26

Seth had rolled the figure at the foot of the steps onto his back and Peter halted abruptly, recognition and surprise flooding his features. "Richard Castle?"

"The guy who paid for remodeling the hospital?"

"Yeah, he's a relative of Dr. K's, cousin or something."

"Well, he's still alive but just barely. Looks like hypothermia." Then he stood aside so that Peter could see through the doorway. "That is the situation."

Kate was lying face up with head and shoulders outside and the rest of her body inside the cabin. A quick visual sweep revealed that the woman was unconscious, although shivering and groaning in obvious distress. She was wearing flannel pajamas. Soaked flannel pajamas, because the floor of the cabin was covered with at least a quarter inch of water.

"What happened in here?" Peter demanded. "Did a pipe burst or something."

"Best I can tell," Seth responded "Mr. Castle was carrying snow to cool his friend there."

Peter took note of the flushed appearance of the unconscious woman and laid his hand across her forehead. He snatched it back immediately, as if scorched. She's blazing. Things were rapidly getting out of control. No way the two of them could care for three critically ill patients for very long.

Seth anticipated the unasked question. "The RCMP Jet Ranger should be here in twenty minutes. But it's been configured for some special mission and it would take too long to reconfigure it, so they can only take one patient back."

"Damn" he groaned.

"Don't freak out just yet, boss, They're sending someone from the hospital with the chopper. RCAF is also sending one of their search and rescue birds to pick up the other two. It should be here in about an hour."

They're sending Dr. McDermitt? Peter asked.

"No, he's up at Fort Silver dealing with a mine accident. It'll be a couple of hours before he even gets back to Red Wolf.

"All right, here's what we're going to do. I'll go get Dr. K and you get the woman up out of the water. Try to get her dried off and put her in the bed in the front bedroom. We'll put Dr. K in there too. Then we'll both try to get Mr. Castle up to the steps and on to the couch, then we'll….."

"Peter, look." He spun abruptly, gaze tracking his partner's, only to gape in astonishment. The woman who only minutes before had been flushed and burning with fever was now pale and clammy. Most disturbing, she was shivering so violently that he feared for her dental work, and her heels beat a macabre tattoo against the plank floor.

"What the heck is that, I've seen sick people, I've seen drunk people and I've seen people high on almost anything you can imagine and I've never seen anything like this." Seth seemed a bit spooked.

"I know partner, I know. Just follow protocol and try to keep her from injuring herself. I'll be back in a second with Dr. K.

Peter knelt by the motionless figure. Kayla forced her eyes open when she sensed his presence. "Long… took…"

"Sorry Doc, Seth and I are a little overwhelmed."

"Done good." Kayla tried to sit, but got nowhere. "Help …Cabin .…Patients"

"Doc, you're a patient."

"Crawl….have to."

"Doc, you are not crawling anywhere. I was going to take you any way. Now, let's see if I can lift you without hurting you too much. He slid one arm under her knees and the other just below her shoulders. She hissed with pain as Peter stood, holding her bridal style. Taking slow, deliberate steps because of the light dusting of snow; he was halfway to the cabin when he heard the high-pitched whine of snowmobile engines approaching from the northeast. "Should be one of the other teams, we can use the help."

In actuality, it was two of the other teams, four officers. They raced up and halted where Peter waited with his burden. "Sarge." he acknowledged his superior.

"What do we have here Officer Gunnison?"

"Dr.K was attacked by the wolf pack we've been trailing. She was bitten in the shoulder. I think she'll make it if we get her to the hospital."

"This is Mr. Castle's cabin, isn't it?" the sergeant asked, looking around.

"Yeah Sarge, he's inside unconscious, looks like hypothermia. His female companion is inside as well. I have no idea what's wrong with her, other than maybe a seizure of some kind. The RCMP chopper should be here any minute."

"I'll take care of things out here, you go on in with the doctor."

As Peter resumed his trek to the cabin, he heard his sergeant giving orders to use the snowmobile headlights to illuminate a landing for the helicopter, and for one of the officers to bring Kayla's medical sled up near the door of the cabin. They were sure to need its supplies.

The beat of angel's wings could not have sounded better at that moment than the throaty whine of twin Allison turbo-shaft engines as the pilot overflew the hilltop, circled once and touched down in the center of the landing zone designated by the headlights. He killed the engines and the rotors began to spin down.

Seth, who was just returning to the bedroom with an armload of towels, encountered two women as they bustled through the front door with confident determined strides. The second women was obviously the older of the two, with wisps of gray hair escaping from under a bright red ski cap. Spotting Rick on the couch, she immediately moved to his side and began to examine him with sure, practiced hands.

The first woman was young, very young, mid twenties at most. Her creamy skin and bright red hair almost made the young officer forget he was in the midst of a medical emergency. "I'm Doctor Alexis Rodgers, where are my patients?"

"In here, ma'am." he stated, leading toward the bedroom.

"Doctor."

"Yes ma'am…er…yes Doctor."

Alexis did a quick visual triage. Kate Beckett although pale, was breathing and her pulse rate was normal. "Deal with her in a second." She glanced up at the officer who was holding an IV bag elevated ."Who were the first responders?"

Peter answered, "We were," pointing between himself and Seth.

"How did she present?"

"She was barely conscious. Pulse seemed a bit irregular. The bleeding had stopped. She directed me to administer morphine and start an IV with the blood extender. Then we brought her in here so we could keep an eye on both of them at the same time."  
"Good work. How about Kate?"

"She was lying on the floor and her clothing was soaked. She was extremely flushed and her skin temp was really high. Within 10 minutes her skin went cold and clammy and she started shivering so violently that I was afraid she would injure herself. She kept making noises as if she was in pain, but she was never lucid, so that's all."

"So you two killed the wolves?"

"The last four." Seth responded, "Dr. K got most of them before we got here."

Alexis addressed her cousin "KayKay, you go girl."

"Lexi…?"

Alexis sprang to the bedside. "KayKay how are you feeling?"

"Been better. Rick, Kate?"

"Rick's currently unconscious probably hypothermia, but Moira's checking him out now.  
Kate is another story. She had a seizure or something that scared the crap out of the first responders. She seems to be okay for the moment. If it happens again, I was going to give her 5mg Diazepam"

"Good," Kaylah approved "….10."

. "10mg, gotcha. Kay Kay, I'm going to give you some more morphine. The helicopter will be here any minute, and I need to put a dressing on your shoulder and immobilize it for transport."

Alexis turned back to the two officers "The woman in the other room is Moira Flynn, our head nurse. If one of you would go help her with Rick, the other can stay with me."

"You go Pete." Gunnison nodded with a smirk. Apparently his partner was a bit smitten by the vigorous, take charge redhead.

"I'm going to go get some supplies from the sled. We need to get Kayla ready for transport."

"Yes… uh…Doctor.

"Seth? Right?" He nodded.

"Look, this Doctor, Doctor thing gets old after a while. Here, I'm Alexis. At the hospital it's Doctor. Got it?

"Trying to untie his tongue, he blurted out the first thing he could think of. "That's a pretty name."

Alexis laughed, "Practice your pickup lines later. We've got patients." He's so cute when he's flustered. "Keep trying to get Kate dried off and call me if anything changes.

Alexis stopped by the couch to check on Rick. "What's his status Moira?"

"Severe hypothermia, and probably frostbite. I've got him setup with hot packs and a space blanket. Vitals and core temp are coming up nicely."

Thirty minutes later, the Jet Ranger lifted off on its half hour flight to Red Wolf. Kayla, happily sleeping off a second dose of morphine and securely strapped in the single rear seat. Moira kept an eagle eye on her charge from the copilots seat.

Kayla would face hours of tedious reconstructive surgery and months of rehab, but she would return to the job she loved; caring for the good citizens of Red Wolf District - Yukon Territory with unsurpassed skill and devotion. From time-to time her brood (it mattered not - children, grandchildren, nieces and nephews - they were all hers) would gather with raucous enthusiasm and demand; "Tell us about the night you fought the wolves." 


	72. Chapter 72

**Red Wolf District Hospital Thursday Morning October 27**

"I feel like crap," Richard Castle declared. "Actually I feel worse than crap; I feel like crap feels when it feels like crap. He opened his eyes and glanced around to see if anyone appreciated his clever metaphor. It appeared his efforts had been wasted. He was alone in a starkly furnished room, occupying a narrow bed that left much to be desired as far as comfort was concerned. Where am I? Where's Kate?

Oh, God. Kate. It all came stumbling back into focus, shattering the morning into razor sharp shards of despair. Yesterday, October 25, the day Richard Castle lost hope. By early yesterday afternoon, Kate's fever started its relentless march upward. When it hit 105.1, in spite of Ibuprofen and cold drinks. He knew she was dying and he went all-in with a pair of two's, because he had to play it out. Folding was not an option.

He found a small plastic bucket and charged out the door, heedless of coat, hat or shoes. The nearest area where enough snow had accumulated to be scoopable was the edge of the forest, a good three hundred meters from the cabin. And so it began, the endless trudge, cabin to forest to cabin to forest. Seeing the precious snow melt almost as fast as it touched her skin, hearing her cries to her mother, to him.

To Richard Castle, hopeless did not mean effortless and he drove himself well past the point where most would have fallen by the wayside. Driven forward by nothing more than iron will and fighting spirit - and love. Trudge - trudge - trudge. Cabin to forest to cabin to forest.

A familiar figure strolled into the room. "Charlie?" Rick exclaimed. "I guess this means I'm in the hospital"

"Yeah, you had us worried for a while. Can you tell me what happened?"

Rick recited the events of the day, just as he had replayed them in his mind as he was waking up.

"What was the last thing you remembered before you blacked out?"

"My feet had gone numb and I fell when I was about twenty feet from the cabin. I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt a sharp pain in my chest, and that's the last thing I remember until I woke up just now."

"How long has it been since you had a complete physical?"

"A few years."

"A few two or a few ten?"

"Maybe six or seven." Rick admitted, embarrassed.

"Rick, I'm going to give it to you straight, I've got some concerns, some of which need to be addressed immediately. You damn near killed yourself out there."

"But,…

"I know, you were trying to save Kate, and you did. But there are consequences and we have to deal with them.. These are the critical to address now. First, frostbite. You have several locations where frost bite was severe enough that the tissue is necrotic. We either have to amputate or debride those areas and do skin grafts."

Rick visibly flinched at the a-word. "Uh…Charlie, what exactly do you plan to amputate?"

"Three toes, two fingertips and a bit of an ear."

"Not …uh…you know?

"The doctor laughed. "No, Rick, not 'you know'"

"Thank God!"

The soles of your feet were particularly hard hit, they'll need skin grafts. What were you thinking anyway - no shoes."

"I wasn't thinking, I was trying to keep the woman I love alive. I'd do it again too."

Kate stood leaning against the wall in the corridor outside Rick's room. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Rick had nearly died to save her. They were going to amputate. Do you hear that Kate - amputate - cut off parts of his body for God's sake and throw them away. In her own exhausted and muzzy state of mind, she failed to clearly ascertain exactly what parts were affected, only the words foot and ear registering and being Kate Beckett, she assumed the worst.

Kate turned abruptly and with halting but determined steps retraced her path back to her room. Gathering her personal effects and slipping on a warm jacket that had somehow made the trip from Rick's cabin, she aimed one last longing glance down the corridor and shedding one last bitter tear, she slipped out of the hospital and began the pivotal journey of her life.

Another familiar face peeked around the door of Rick's room. "Hi, Rick."

"Alexis?" Rick's face lit up at the sight of his favorite redhead. "Come in, What are you doing here?" The girl bounced over to the bed and gave him an enthusiastic hug. "I'm doing my internship here. You sure look better than you did last night at the cabin."

"How do you know?" Rick asked, puzzled.

"She was the only doc available last night, so she rode out on the first copter. Took charge like a real pro." Charlie informed him..

"Proud of you Pumpkin." Rick was the only one who had ever called her pumpkin more than once.

"Charlie, is it okay if I scrub in on Kayla's surgery? Dr. Dupre said he could use the help."

"Go ahead."

"See you later Rick." Alexis called back as she breezed out the door.

"Kayla's surgery?" Rick fought a sick, sinking feeling.

Charlie's grin turned somber, "When she arrived at the cabin last night, you and Kate were about to become wolf kibble and she rolled in with that fancy rifle you gave her and started kicking some wolf ass. She managed to kill eight before one got her. She was bitten in the shoulder and she's going to need reconstructive surgery and a lot of PT. She'll be all right though thanks to a couple of conservation officers who responded to her emergency beacon.."

"How about Kate?"

"Rick, I hate to say this, but I have no idea. It's almost like there were several things going on simultaneously. She seemed normal this morning.."

"Where is she?"

"Just down the hall. She was sleeping when I came by on the way down here. Let's get these surgeries out of the way, then if she's up to it, I'll bring her down."

"If she wants to come." Rick muttered.


	73. Chapter 73

Tampa FBI Thursday Morning October 26

Hayley's phone dinged, interrupting her frustrated pacing; this missing Alexyev thing was driving her nuts. She checked the screen - hmmm, Lainey Parish, should be interesting. "Hi, Lainey."

"Hayley. I've got some info on the device from the hotel."

"I'm all ears Lainey."

"Your perps were trying to retrieve a device from inside the air handler. The device is essentially a battery powered, motorized sifter. There was a bit of the white particulate still in it."

"The particulate is the same stuff, right?"

"Yep, same stuff."

"I need to pick it up for evidence. Would it be okay if I came by tomorrow?"

"Sure. I've got an idea."

"Should I be scared?"

"Funny girl. Seriously, some of us try to go out for lunch every Friday. You could join us if you like."

"Sounds like fun, what time?

"Noon, at the lab."

"See ya"

Tampa Orion Institute Thursday Morning October 26 It was unusual for Vienna to call an all-hands emergency meeting with only an hour notice. In fact, it was unprecedented. So unusual, that the entire campus resonated with rampant speculation. At 08:30 the entrance gates were closed and secured. By 08:45, all non-employees, visitors and vendors had been politely but firmly escorted off the property. At 08:50, the entire staff of the Orion Institute filed silently into the cavernous auditorium and took seats. Rick had insisted that the admin building include a meeting place large enough to accommodate every one at once. 'Every one is equally valued, therefore everyone should hear the same message." Such a Rick-like thing to say, Vienna surreptitiously swiped a lone tear. "Oh Rick, come back soon. We need you so.

At precisely 9:00AM, Vienna Wong Takayoshi took the longest walk of her life. A precision measuring tape would have shown indisputably that the distance from stage left wing to center stage front was a mere twenty-nine feet seven inches. Vienna and every other person who witnessed that exquisitely agonizing journey would swear that it covered miles. and miles upon miles.

Vienna's dress set the somber tone of the event. She wore a sharply tailored plain black pantsuit with a simple white silk mock neck blouse. Pinned at the throat was a silver brooch with stars representing the constellation Orion. Rick had given it to her on the day that Orion officially opened for business.

The stage was bare of furnishings, except for one item. Slightly right of center stood a candle stand. Around four feet tall, it was carved of Gaboon ebony, as black as midnight, in a triple barley twist. Atop the candle stand sat a pure white taper, already lit. The flame flickered and danced, making the polished wood pulse with light as if it were a living thing. Most of the audience understood the symbolism. Vienna was acknowledging the presence of their leader, even if only in spirit.

Vienna halted a long arms length from the flame. Facing it, she brought her hands up, palms together, fingers pointed up and very slowly and deliberately clapped three times; then turned to face the audience, bowed and then began to speak.

I'm not much for making speeches so I'll get right to the point. I called this meeting to inform you that as of 5 PM this afternoon, The Orion Institute for Advanced Technology will close its doors and cease to exist.

The impact of 600 jaws hitting the floor was most likely registered by seismic monitoring stations up and down the east coast. Those who recovered first, immediately turned to their nearest neighbor seeking confirmation and some modicum of comfort. "Did, she really say that?" "What am I going to do, I have bills? Into the rising Hubbub and incipient panic stepped Vienna Takayoshi. She took a deliberate step forward and raised her hand. It would be an exaggeration to say that the room quieted instantly. No, the emotions released were far too powerful for that. In all truth, it didn't take all that the sepulchral silence was restored and Vienna continued.

"This move is not something that we choose to do, but rather has been forced upon us by our enemies who would steal the fruits of your labor and turn it to their own vile purpose. This must not happen. It will not happen. At the same time we cannot allow our people to suffer beyond what is unavoidable. Your pay and benefits will continue unchanged until the crisis is resolved or for a period of two years." A murmur began to swell and Vienna quieted it. "This morning, I was informed that a federal judge has ordered us to surrender all paper documents on Monday morning." Vienna smiled for the first time since receiving the phone call. "We will of course comply fully." The audience responded with strained laughter. Orion was a completely paperless organization. Paper of any sort was not allowed.

"You will receive a letter early next week, with additional information and instructions. From the legal side, no one can compel you to talk about your work or the company. Should you feel that you need legal counsel, we have retained the law firm of McWhorter, Halliburton and Reynolds to act as counsel for anyone in the organization who requests it."

"Admiral Yamamoto, commander of the Japanese fleet that attacked Pearl Harbor made a remark to an aide as the fleet returned to Japan.. He said," I fear all we have done is to awaken a sleeping giant and fill him with a terrible resolve."

"On signing our Declaration of Independence, the founders pledged to each other, their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor.

As we enter this time of trial, I pledge to you by my life, my fortune and my sacred honor- the giant will awaken with a terrible resolve and exact a terrible vengeance."  
"Pray for the safe return of Mr. Rick and pray for Orion."

"Thank you"  
The shout that erupted should have brought the building down around their ears, but it withstood the onslaught.

Tampa Orion Institute Thursday Afternoon

McKinley Phelps, Chief Operating Officer of Channel 11 registered astonishment as complete as if a leprechaun had suddenly appeared in the middle of the conference table. He met the gaze of his new boss, but could read nothing. Vienna Takayoshi had one heck of a poker face. He finally regained his composure enough to speak. "Vienna, I want insult you by asking if you're serious. But…I don't know what to say. The Orion Institute shut down? For good?"

Vienna's expression remained completely neutral as she replied, "For good is a long time, Mac, but if necessary - yes.."

"Seems a bit draconian.

There's several reasons. First it eliminates the possibility that someone will let something slip while the Russians are looking for documents. Finally we have things that that are in-process that we're going to have to move out before they arrive. If that comes back to bite me, I don't want the rest of the employees to be tarred with my brush.

"So where do I come in?"

"I want you to do a profile on Orion. I want the people to have a visceral reaction to what this Russian gambit will mean to each and very person in the Bay area." She paused,"And I want it to air in two weeks."

"May I…? He began, but Vienna interrupted.

"Mac, I don't micromanage. Do whatever it takes. If you need capital, come see me. But other than that, Just get it done."

"I have a reporter in mind."

"Yes?

"Serena Kaye."

"I thought she retired."

"She did, but she'll come back for this'

Vienna nodded approval. The ex Chief International Correspondent for the BBC would certainly lend credibility to Channel 11's effort.

After her meeting with Mac Phelps, Vienna found George Mcwhorter in the lobby of the admin building. "All right George, show me this 'Masquerade' that you and Rick cooked up.

"I'm not taking any credit for this one Vienna. This idea is beyond crazy - classic Rick."

"Ok, let's hear."

"Well, the Russians are going to come in Monday morning expecting to find tons of documents; which we know don't exist . What are they going to do if they don't find anything?

They/ll either tear the place apart looking, or go running to their tame judge to get access to our electronic records. Vienna responded with an involuntary grimace.

"Actually, I hope they do ask for our electronic records." George grinned. That's for later. At the moment we're talking about documents. Follow me." The Institute's campus was situated on a high ridge (or at least what counted for a high ridge in central Florida). The elevation allowed the buildings to have a below ground level basement. The basement in the admin building was divided into two sections. Three fourths of the space were given over to the Institutes computer. The other section was listed on the building directory as 'Storage.'

George led Vienna down an obscure corridor that ended at an elevator.. On either side of the door was a key lock. George stepped to the right side of the door and inserted his key. "Insert your Master key please Vienna." When she complied, He continued. "We need to turn our keys together.." Vienna nodded. "On two, one, two." The door slid open and they stepped into what was obviously a service elevator. No polished wood or gleaming brass. Everything was stark and utilitarian. Concrete and gray - painted metal. Except for the space around the door, where Vienna and George were standing, the space was filled, floor-to- ceiling, wall - to -wall banker's boxes.

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Vienna's voice betrayed both excitement and concern. She had seen the results of Rick Castle's unbridled enthusiasms before and it was not for the faint of heart. "What's in the boxes?"

"Five years worth of paper records for Orion." George leaned in with a predatory grin and lowered his voice. "All of them pure fiction."

"How…?" Vienna stuttered, astonishment schooling her features. Not so much astonishment at Rick's scheme, but at George McWhorter's gleeful participation. The normally stolid attorney was almost beside himself with excitement. "He's corrupted you too, hasn't he?"

George just shrugged,"It's a good thing he's on our side."

"You have no idea," Vienna shook her head in mock resignation. "Now how did you pull this off?"

"Pretty simple actually, Rick hired a bunch of retired scientists and engineers to generate the content and a bunch of disabled vets to print everything out, make everything look used, and pack the boxes. It's very convincing if I do say so myself."

"Where did the money come from for this enterprise? I don't remember signing off on it."  
"You didn't, Rick paid for it out of his own funds."  
"All this trouble just to keep the Russians from poking around?" Vienna asked and then instantly regretted it when the lawyer shot her a look that implied she was being a bit dense.

"Castle's First Law." he reminded her.

"Don't fight to avoid defeat, fight to win. Oh my, what did he do?"

George's grin got wider. "Well, let's just say there are enough research dead ends, red herrings, blind alleys and just plain fantasies to keep their research establishments tied up in knots for years trying to figure it out. By tomorrow morning all the boxes will be distributed to the appropriate desk or office. I think it's time to open the second folder."  



	74. Chapter 74

Red Wolf District Hospital Thursday Afternoon October 26

Alexis Rodgers was tired but elated. Kaylah's surgery had gone well, and Dr. Dupre ,who was an excellent teacher, expressed satisfaction with her assistance and even let her do some parts of the procedure.

Then, they had rolled straight into Rick's procedure. The debridement and skin grafting were pretty simple, but tedious. The actual incision of the toes and finger gave her a bit of trouble. Removing parts of her cousins body was a little disconcerting, but she powered through and Charlie tapped her to close.  
Leaving the OR, she pulled off her surgical cap and finger combed the tangles out of her hair. I'll go by and check on Kate and then grab a bite, I'm starving.

Kate was not in her room and Alexis noticed that her wallet, cellphone and and the jacket she wore last night were missing. "I hope she didn't go outside. Maybe she's down in Rick's room."

Kate was not in Rick's room either, so Alexis walked out to the front lobby. Maybe the receptionist has seen Kate. When she entered the lobby, she found Seth Browning talking with the receptionist. "Dr. Rodgers. I was just going to page you. This gentleman…"

"Thank you Marilyn," Alexis interrupted, reading the girl's name off her ID badge.

"Good morning Officer Browning, "Are you here for me…I mean to see me?"

"Yes, I was driving by the airport and I saw the lady from the cabin, Kate .

"Kate's at the airport. What was she doing?"

"Sitting on a bench outside the terminal."

"Probably waiting on the next flight." Alexis mused.

"She'll have a long wait." Seth supplied. "The next flight is not until Monday."

Alexis complexion was starting to develop a distinct pink tinge. Those who knew her well would already be heading for the hills. A Scotch-Irish Redhead, carrying the infamous Clan Castle berserker gene, when provoked was a sight to see - from a distance. The only person known to have survived one of her Krakatoa-worthy eruptions was Rick Castle and he escaped only by the expedient of chunking her in a horse trough on her grandmother's farm before she really got rolling. Poor CO Seth Browning didn't have a clue.

"Officer Browning, would you please drive me to the airport?"

"Well…uh…Okay," Why did her voice get all gravelly all the sudden?

"I need to pick up a couple of things in Kate's room. Be right back." Alexis ran down the hall, scooped up Kate's luggage and hustled back down the hall. Seth was holding the door and she breezed through, straight toward the parked SUV that had a "Yukon Conservation' decal on the side.

On the short drive to the airport, Alexis thought hard. What should I say? Should I try to get her to stay? What's best for Rick? I guess I'll just have to play it by ear."

Alexis was a little disappointed in the 'airport'. Not that she was expecting JFK, but even her worst case imaginings had risen above a gravel landing strip, barely wider than her driveway back home, and a Korean War era military surplus quonset hut.. Seth parked the SUV beside the building and climbed out.

"Where's the terminal?" Alexis asked.

"This is it," "Seth replied with a grin. "Not quite as grandiose as you expected?" He retrieved Kate's Luggage and passed them to Alexis.

"Not quite. Where's Kate?"

"When I came by, she was around front, sitting on the bench."

Alexis paused for a couple of seconds, stoking the fire of her berserker fury "All Right, let's go."

Kate was sitting on one of those wooden benches made from half of a split log. Her head was bowed so that her face was hidden by her hair. Her arms were crossed and her shoulders were shaking. Whether crying or shivering was impossible to tell. She seemed to be oblivious to her surroundings, at least until Alexis flung the bags down at her feet. "If you're going to run like a weak ungrateful, sniveling little coward, "You'll need these."  
"Kate looked up, startled. "Who the hell are you?"  
"Alexis Rodgers, I'm Kayla and Rick's cousin." Kate buried her face in her hands. "Oh God, not another one."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Alexis snapped.

"Nothing, just another Castle woman. Are you going to hit me too?"

"Who hit you, Kayla?"

"Yeah, sucker punch." Kate admitted.

"Well you're safe from me, The Hippocratic oath takes a dim view of Dr.s assaulting their patients."

"You're Kaylah's Dr.?"

"Yep, yours and Rick's too for that matter."

"I didn't ask for….." Kate snapped, rising to her feet to confront the younger woman.

Kate had a good six inches in height and twenty pounds advantage over Alexis, but that didn't intimidate the fiery red-head even a little. She gave Kate a good stiff forefinger poke in the center of the chest, forcing her to take a step back. "You didn't ask for a doctor because you were unconscious." Poke "Your fever spiked over 105 degrees." Poke. "You were dying, sister." Poke The angel of death was on final approach." Poke. And our very own Rick Castle waved him off ."

"I know, I know " Kate whispered. I can vaguely remember him packing snow around me. " "Packing Snow? Packing Snow! You think that's all there was to it." Poke. " He was so concerned about you that he ran out of the cabin with no shoes." Poke. "No coat," Poke. "No hat." Poke.

Seth Browning sat mesmerized. Two beautiful women going at it hammer and tongs right in front of him. This is better than the saddle bronc finals at the Calgary Stampede. The taller woman … uhh. Kate. yeah Kate, didn't seem to be putting up as much of a fight as he would have expected. Probably just tired from her ordeal at the cabin. On the other hand the little red hellcat was no pushover. He eyeballed the distance from the two combatants to the edge of the river. Ten feet maybe eleven. I wonder if Alexis is going to poke her into the river?

Alexis, seemingly reading his mind executed a deft 180 and started poking Kate back up the river bank toward the terminal.

"Alexis, I'm too messed up, I'm no good for him I almost got him killed, They're going to cut his foot off because of me, I've got to get away."

"First of all, your hearing is as bad as your relationship skills. No one has or is going to cut off Rick's foot. His feet need skin grafts for frostbite."

"Kate Beckett, In what universe is it acceptable to abandon a person who just risked their life for you?" Poke. "How can you possibly rationalize abandoning a person who loves you, simply because you are afraid of being abandoned?" Poke. "You think you don't deserve him don't you?"

"Kate nodded miserably.

"Well, I've got news for you, sister." Poke "You." Poke "Don't." Poke "Deserve him. There's not one woman in the universe that does."

"But, I'm an ind…"

"Kate Beckett, if you 'but' me one more time, I swear to God I'll kick yours into that river." Poke "You know what you deserve,? You deserve to be miserable and alone, patting yourself on the back for being strong and independent. Rick Castle is offering you the greatest gift in the world - freely. Not because you deserve it , but because he wants to. You keep this up and you will destroy him. Not armies and enemies, but you." Poke "You will destroy him."

"What do I do, Alexis?" Kate choked out.

"Once and for all, make up your mind. Either accept the gift and cherish and protect it or throw it away like yesterday's trash. There's no middle ground, no compromise, no trying."

Kate swayed and would have fallen, had Alexis not stepped forward and supported her weight. Seth jumped to help and they sat her gently to the bench. "There's not another plane until Monday." The edge of Alexis anger had dulled a bit. "You need to go back to the hospital, then we need to try to figure out what happened to you and make sure it doesn't happen again. Then I'm going to lock you and Rick in his room together until you all get your heads on straight."

"Okay,"

Seth delivered Alexis and Kate safely back to the hospital and helped carry Kate's bags back to her room. He drove away with a goofy grin, feeling the lingering tingle of a chaste goodbye kiss.

Alexis decided to visit each of her patients and then walk a couple of blocks down the street and grab a bite to eat before going back to Kayla's guesthouse for some much needed sleep. She found Charlie in Kayla's room. "She good?" nodding toward the sleeping form of her cousin.

"Yeah, she's doing great. As long as there's no unforeseen infection, Dr. Dupre thinks she'll recover at least ninety percent of the use of her shoulder. Did you find Kate?"

"She was at the airport, waiting for the next flight out."

"What is it with that woman?" Charlie wondered.

"I don't know the whole story, but nothing excuses what she keeps doing to Rick."

Rick was awake when she arrived at his room. "Hey Rick, how's my favorite patient?"

"Alexis, did you find Kate?"

"Yeah, she overheard you and Charlie talking about your injuries. She heard the word 'Amputation' and had a panic attack and ran out. Fortunately, she didn't get very far. She's back in her room now. I was heading out to grab a bite, can I get you anything?

"Not really hungry, thanks anyway."

Half an hour later, as Alexis strolled past the hospital on her way back from Klondike Kate's with an amazing-looking takeout salad, she realized she was probably still too keyed up to sleep. Might as well get started on Kaylah's project. In the hospital break room, she finished off her salad and a cup of coffee before walking to the hospital's lab.

She pulled the two blood collection tubes containing Kate's blood from the refrigerator and contemplated her next course of action. Let's start with the basics - a comprehensive metabolic panel. She drew the appropriate amount from one of the tubes with a syringe and added it to an analyzer tube. Inserting the tube into the Technicon Auto Analyzer, she pressed start and waited for the test to complete.

She scooped up the report when it finished printing and scanned the data. Everything was within normal range except for …. Holy Crap! Total Serum Protein is 16.7 versus a normal range of 6.4 to 8.3. Okay, let me think. Total Serum Protein has two components, Albumin and Globulins. The CMP doesn't test for Globulins, but does test for Albumin. She determined that the Serum Albumin level is 4.1 versus a normal range of 3.5 to 5.0. So the excess must be in the Globulins. I wonder if they have a Serum Protein Electrophoresis device?

Fortunately, the cabinets in the lab were labeled and a quick search turned up a gel electrophoresis kit and power supply. I haven't used one of these since college…maybe I should read the instructions. Thirty minutes later, she had the gel running and decided another cup of coffee might be a good investment.

The results were both startling and unsettling. The serum globulin level was a bit high but still within normal range. That left over ten grams per liter of protein that was neither albumin or globulin. To put it bluntly, Kate's blood fairly reeked with foreign protein. Now what?

Alexis gaze settled on a device perched on a worktable in one corner of the lab. Rick's toy. She remembered how amused Kayla had been when Rick purchased the device for the lab. After all, how many 12-bed hospitals have a scanning electron microscope in their lab. The Agilent 8500 is a desktop SEM about the same size as a laser printer and highly automated.

In short order, Alexis had the machine set up, a sample mounted and was ready to start searching. On her third pass, she stopped and gawked at the object on the display. A hexagonal cylinder filled the screen. "Never seen that before." she muttered. "I wonder what it's made of?" The Agilent 8500 has built-in EDX (Energy Dispersive X-ray Spectroscopy) capability. She scrolled to the EDX screen and pondered the analysis. Carbon, hydrogen and oxygen. So a poly saccharide of some sort.

She returned to the main screen and studied the image more closely. One end of the cylinder was crushed and some sort of particles seemed to be spilling out. Scrolling over to the particles, she increased the magnification to 50,000x and enjoyed the second jaw-dropping experience of the evening. The particles looked like alien spiders with bulbous bodies and multiple legs. "What the heck is that? They're way too small to be bacteria, so they must be viruses, but I've never seen viruses that look like that. She scrolled back to the EDX screen - carbon, hydrogen, oxygen and nitrogen - Bingo - Protein!

Blinding flash of light. Alexis grabbed a phlebotomy tray and tore off down the hall to Kate's room. "Kate, Kate, Wake up." Alexis demanded, giving her shoulder a vigorous shake.

"Wha…, What is it?" Kate's eyes fluttered open. "Alexis? Is something wrong with Rick? What?"

"No, no, I just need some blood."

"Okay, I guess. If you say 'just a little poke', I swear I'll smack You."

Alexis chuckled, "No more pokes —- if you behave." "I'll behave," Kate said meeting the other woman's gaze. "Thank you, Alexis. You kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life. Can I see him?"

"We gave him a sedative after surgery. The pain is pretty intense. He'll probably sleep till morning."

"I'll see him in the morning then."

"Kate, can you tell me what was the first symptom you noticed when you had your attack."

"Headache," Kate replied. "I never have headaches."

"Okay," Alexis replied. "I need to go test this blood."

"Now, I have a headache," Alexis thought an hour later as she sat at the desk in the lab and try to make sense of the data. The more she looked at it, the more confusing it became. She had conducted a more thorough search of the original blood sample and found many more of the hexagonal cylinders. The most recent sample had approximately two thirds the number of cylinders, but Kate was currently asymptomatic. If the cylinders were still there in such numbers, shouldn't she be showing frank symptoms?

"Ah ha." Her fever. A 105 degree fever would have killed off most or all of the virus particles that were not protected by the polysaccharide cylinder. But it makes no sense to design a virus that kills itself off before it has a chance to reproduce. That means - oh crap - there are two separate things going on here. Just for fun, let's do this the old-fashioned way.

She found some glass microscope slides and placed a drop of the recently collected blood in the center and used a second slide to spread the drop into a thin film. Setting the slide aside to dry, she found a bottle of Giemsa stain and a small bottle of methanol. A Carl Zeiss conventional medical microscope was sitting at the back corner of the desk she was working at. She slid it forward to where she could reach the eyepieces.

Her slide was dry, so she held it over the sink while she thoroughly soaked it with stain and rinsed the excess stain off with methanol. She sat at the microscope, clipped the slide to the microscope stage, took a deep breath and looked through the scope.

Giemsa stain turns organic materials blue and Alexis saw several dozen blue objects scattered randomly throughout the field of view. All of them appeared to be perfectly normal red blood cells. She moved the slide over to get a new field of view and got the same result. She moved it a third time and found her quarry. Among the normal red blood cells were three other objects. two of the objects were distorted red blood cells that had a dark spot at one edge of the cell and a dark ring that encircled the periphery. The third object had a circular pattern of dark spots surrounding the center of the cell.

"No way, No freaking way."  
####

Kate found her brain running at warp speed after Alexis left. She let her mind wander back over the time she had known Rick and came to a sobering but inescapable conclusion. I messed everything up. Rick is everything any woman could want; certainly everything I want, and I turned down a date with him to go to that stupid auction. I claim to be a feminist and let myself be sold off like a side of beef.

Why would I do that, because I doubted my worth? Because I doubted my capacity to love and be loved? All of the above and more. Damn it. Then, he fights for my life. Deliberately sacrifices himself to save me. He bought me a ring. He gave me his heart.

I need to see him.

She slipped out of bed, pulled on a robe and made her way down the corridor, one hand trailing along the wall for support. She hesitated in the doorway. Rick was lying still with his eyes closed, apparently asleep. She didn't want to wake him, he did have surgery today after all.

"Kate?" The sound of his voice banished any thought of retreat,

"How'd you know I was there?"

"I always know when you're around."

"Can we talk?"

"Sure, pull up a chair. What's on your mind?"

"You." she replied without a moments hesitation.

"Go ahead"

"I want to apologize…."

"Kate," he interrupted. "I know the whole Alexyev thing wasn't your fault."

"Not that, I want to apologize for going to the auction that night instead of being with you. If I hadn't gone none of this would have happened."

"Kate, he was gunning for you, if that didn't work, they would have just tried something else."

"But…"

"But nothing, it's in the past, It's done."

"Rick, I was going to run this morning…"

"I know, Alexis told me. It was a panic attack. We'll work on it."

"We?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes, we. Unless you came down here to break up with me."

"Never, I can't imagine the rest of my life without you in it."

"Me either. Now come here and give me a hug."

Alexis burst in. "Kate, have you been out of the country in the last two months?"

"Er..no. It's been almost two years since I've been overseas."

"That should be okay." Alexis declared and charged out of the room as abruptly as she entered. 


	75. Chapter 75

**Tampa Orion Institute Friday Morning October 27**

Javier Esposito and George McWhorter were waiting in the lobby when Vienna arrived at 07:00. "Maskirovka is complete." George informed her, preempting her first question. Javier and I were waiting to see if you wanted to check on Phase 2.

"Let's go,"She replied. "I think Rick must have been channeling Orville and Wilbur when he came up with the name for Phase 2."

Javier laughed, "Kitty Hawk - No one is likely to guess from the name what's actually involved."

As they walked the short distance to the Aerospace department, Javier voiced a concern. "I think it's likely that we're under observation."

"I think you're right," George replied. "We have to be careful when we launch the Valkyries. But Rick's Maskirovka II should do it if we coordinate everything properly. I'd feel better if we could have a dress rehearsal, but it's too risky."

"Rick really likes that word, doesn't he - maskirovka" Vienna smiled wistfully.

"Castle's second rule - Always try to deceive, mystify and confuse the enemy." Javier agreed.  
"Phase II should definitely do that. I hope it gives them the mother of all migraines" Vienna snarled.

Arriving at the Aerospace building, they passed through a security checkpoint and down a corridor lined by offices and cubicles. At the end of the corridor was a double door with a handprint reader. On the far side of the door, they entered a brightly lit, high-ceiling assembly bay. Vienna estimated that there were at least fifty people working individually, or in small groups on a dozen or so objects around the space. That meant that the entire Valkyrie project team was on hand, working industriously to get their charges to safety.

The three large disk shaped objects supported on wheeled trailers occupied the majority of floor space. The large Valkyrie, or Valkyrie II as some called it, was twelve feet in diameter and three feet thick in the center tapering down to one foot thick at the edges.

Lined up like baby ducks behind their mama were six smaller Valkyries, exactly one half the size of the Valkyrie II. This was the craft that Rick had used to good effect during the golf course attack. Lined up next to the small Valkyries was six conventional looking winged craft that resembled half-scale Predator drones. Their purpose was not immediately apparent.

A youngish man with curly brown hair, gave a quick wave across the bay when he recognized his visitors. He wiped his hands quickly on a shop towel and strode across the floor. "Morning Ms. Vienna, Mr. McWhorter, Javier."

"Morning Brian." Vienna answered for the group. Brian Kilgore was the Valkyrie Project Chief Engineer. Another of Vienna's recruiting coups. The idea for the Valkyrie Drive flowed directly from Rick's research into the nature of gravity waves, but it was Brian and his team that had turned that idea into hardware. Hardware that had already proven its worth.

"We should be able to go tonight, Ms. Vienna," Brian announced

"I plan on being here." She assured him. "But if something happens, launch at midnight, with me or without me. Kitty Hawk has to happen."

Kitty Hawk was Rick's code name for his plan to maintain the secrecy of the Valkyrie technology in unfriendly hands was the stuff of true nightmares. Since it was highly probable, indeed almost certain, that the Institute campus was under observation, it would be unwise to simply load sensitive material onto trucks and haul it away. Instead they would take advantage of the empty space that had been reserved for future upgrades in the large Valkyries and fly the materials out using the Valkyrie's stealth capability.

Brian's team had already loaded all raw materials, semi-finished components, and finished components. They were only waiting for a couple pieces of cargo, and they could replace the access panels, button everything up and the birds would be ready to fly.

The door behind them opened and two men entered, each pushing a cart. Two other men in Orion security uniforms followed. The carts each held three box shaped objects about the size of a desk top computer tower. These were the memory cores for 'Leonardo', the Institutes super computer. Every bit of research, test and design data was contained in those boxes. They had been replaced with spare cores that had been programmed with bogus data. The data was also highly encrypted and the Institute's cyber group estimated that it would take at least a year to break the encryption.

As the group watched, the memory cores were carefully secured in the cargo bay of the Valkyrie II's.

Vienna sighed, "It's like watching your child have brain surgery."

Red Wolf District Hospital Friday Morning October 27

"Alexis, wake up." The voice and a gentle shake of her shoulder pierced the fog of sleep and she gave her surroundings a bleary glance. "Did you stay here all night?" Charlie questioned.

"Yeah, I guess." She raised her head from the desktop where it had rested during the night. Stretching and yawning, she stated, "I found something in Kate's blood." Her tone clearly implying that Dr. McDermitt was not going to be overjoyed at her findings.

"Why don't you walk me through what you did, step by step?"

Kate was admitted to the hospital slightly after mid night Thursday morning. At that time, the patient was unresponsive, but her vitals were normal. EKG was normal. An IV line was established and patient was administered 500cc of Lactated Ringer's with 5% Dextrose.

Within 90 minutes, the patient was alert and responsive and I was able to get a partial medical history.

The episode began on Tuesday morning. Upon awakening, the patient reported a mild, non-localized headache. NOTE - patient was adamant that she never has headaches. The headache increased in severity throughout the day. Patient refused OTC pain medication until evening.

Around 21:00 the patient self administered acetaminophen and was able to fall asleep. Approximately one hour after falling asleep, the patient awakened and exhibited uncharacteristic bizarre and even violent behavior. The patient then returned to an apparent sleep state.

Upon awakening Wednesday morning, the headache had moderated significantly. The patient was found to have a 102+degree fever. Patient self administered maximum doses of ibuprofen and consumed iced electrolyte solution. The fever was controlled between 101 to 102 degrees until approximately 20:00 when the fever suddenly spiked to 105 + deg.

First responders found the patient flushed, and very hot to touch. Approximately thirty minutes after the first responders arrived, the patient became cold and clammy to touch and exhibited extremely violent shaking chills. The symptoms spontaneously terminated immediately before transport, and have not recurred."

Charlie motioned for Alexis to continue. "So what did you do with the blood?"

"I ran a CMP and everything was normal except for total Serum Protein which was 16.7."

"Wow, I've never seen one that high."

Alexis gave a grim chuckle. I didn't think it could get that high. Albumin and globulins were both in normal range, therefore the excess protein is from an outside source."

"Okay, I'm with you so far." Charlie nodded "What's next?"

"I think the bizarre behavior is a recurrence of the hotel incident that kicked this whole thing off. but the headache, high fever, shaking chills didn't start until Wednesday. They didn't occur during the hotel incident."

"So what are you telling me?"

"We're looking for two different agents." Alexis declared. "One that caused the hotel incident and recurs on a 2-week cycle. And a second agent that has an incubation period of about two weeks. The second agent was responsible for the headache, chills and fever."

"Now we get to the blood?"

"Yep." Alexis opened the window with the SEM image. "First, I found this."

Charlie stared at the hexagonal cylinder, brow furrowed. "This is man-made." he stated after a minute. "What is it made of?"

"Polysaccharide. This is what's inside." She opened the window wth the virus image. "I don't know what these are. They are protein, and the right size for a virus, but I've never seen a virus that looks like that."

"I have." Charlie replied. "They are bacteriophages. But they only attack bacteria, not humans."

"If the capsules are man-made, couldn't the bacteriophages be modified to infect humans?" Alexis suggested.

"I suppose it's possible. You said this was in both the old blood sample as well as the new?"

"Yep, both samples, but there are a lot more in the old sample."

"Damn, I know what this is."

"What Charley?"

"The polysaccharide is a time-release mechanism. Kate is supposed to have another episode. "

"You want to see the other one?"

"No, but I guess I have to"

She scrolled to the Giemsa stained slide image. "See the three oddball cells mixed in with the erythrocytes. Those puppies explain all of Kate's other symptoms: headache, high fever, and shaking chills."

Charlie was glaring at the screen, perplexed. "I should know what this is, but I don't, sorry Alexis."

" Don't feel bad, your chances of seeing a case of this in the Yukon are about the same as getting hit by a meteor. I'll give you a hint. This organism causes more human deaths each year than any other infectious disease."

Charlie's eyes went wide in recognition. "Surely you're joking."

"I'm not joking and don't call me Shirley." Alexis' attempt at levity fell flat when Charlie gave her a blank look. "Never mind. I'm not joking. It's Plasmodium Falciparum."

"Malaria?"

 **Red Wolf District Hospital Friday Noon October 27**

Kate was sitting on the edge of Rick's bed helping him use his laptop when company arrived. Charlie entered, pushing Kayla in a wheelchair, followed closely by Alexis. None of the three looked happy. "We think we know what's happening with Kate." He announced , getting straight to the point. "Alexis tested the blood that Kayla collected last Sunday while she was at the cabin. I've checked it and I had Kayla look at it. We're a hundred per cent in agreement with her diagnosis."

Rick cleared his throat, "I gather from your expressions that it's not good news."

"No. it's not good news," Charlie agreed. "It's not the worst either."

"Let's hear it," Kate said holding tightly to Rick's forearm.

Charlie waved Alexis forward. She set her laptop on the tray table and shifted the screen so that Kate and Rick could view it clearly.

"Kate has two different infections, Alexis began. She opened the window showing the virus particles. The first is a virus. This virus is definitely man-made. I don't have the capability to tell you what exactly it does, but the evidence suggests that it was responsible for the bizarre behavior at the hospital and at the cabin.

She switched to a screen showing the polysaccharide cylinder. The virus particles were delivered using these polysaccharide capsules. Charley believes that the cylinders are a time-release mechanism.

"Which would suggest that she could have another episode." Rick interrupted.

"I'd put it more strongly than that," Kayla added. "I think it means she will have another episode. The only question is when."

"I agree." Alexis replied. "But I think there's another question. Can we do anything to treat it? Maybe even prevent another occurrence."

"Or we could send Kate back to Florida" Rick suggested. "USF might have the resources to handle it."

"No!" Kate declared adamantly. "I'm not leaving you." meeting Rick's gaze. "I'm not going to take the risk of having another 'episode' on an airplane or in an airport. I'd die of embarrassment."

"Not to to mention the fact that if Kate showed up with what appears to be a bioweapon agent in her body, USF will immediately notify CDC, who will then call USAMRIID and Kate will end as a government lab rat in an isolation lab at Fort Dietrich." Kaylah surmised.

"I think this is my call. Right?" Kate pointed out."

"Right." Rick replied and everyone else nodded agreement.

"Then I want to stay, and I want you to do whatever you can to treat it. I don't want to just sit back and wait for another episode"

"All right then, we're going to fight this." Charlie summed up . "I'm open to wild Ideas."

"I've got one."

Charlie turned to his wife. "What've you got."

"Do you remember Conner Parker?"

"Yeah, five-year old with meningitis, turned out to be HIB. How is that relevant?"

"I did a lot of research for that case and found that the HIB bacterium has a polysaccharide coating much like our virus capsules."  
"Excuse me Kayla." Kate spoke up. "What exactly is a HIB."

"Oh sorry, it stands for Haemophilus Influenzae Type B. It's a bacterium that causes a number of different illnesses. My point is that the polysaccharide coat makes it difficult for the immune system to recognize it. However, there is a vaccine. The vaccine is basically a protein with one end that sticks to the polysaccharide and another end that allows white blood cells and antibodies to recognize the bacterium and attack it."

"So you're suggesting we give Kate the vaccine and hope it works on the virus capsules the way it works on the bacterium?" Rick questions.

"Yep."

"I see one potential problem." Alexis says. "What if enough of the virus particles escape to cause an episode?"

"So we need a generic anti-viral to take care of any leakers."Charlie agrees.

"Interferon?" Alexis suggests.

"And maybe Gamma Globulin?" Kayla proposes.

"How much risk is involved if we go this route?" Rick inquires.

"The treatment itself is very low risk. Whether it works or not, who knows? Charlie shrugged.

"Let's do it," Kate stated firmly.

Charlie nodded acceptance, "We have the HIB vaccine in our dispensary. I'll have to order the Interferon and Gamma Globulin from Edmonton. Should be here by Monday at the latest."

"Alexis, you mentioned a second infection." Kate questions.

Alexis opened another screen. "This slide was made from the blood that I took last night." She pointed out several of the objects. "These are normal erythrocytes or red blood cells. However, these three." She said pointing to the objects of interest, "These are schizonts. They are an advanced larval stage of a parasite called Plasmodium Falciparum. The parasite that causes malaria."

"I have malaria!" Kate's hands went to her mouth in shock. Rick tried to sit up but fell back with a growl of frustration.

"Yes, the progression of headache, spiking fever to violent shaking chills is textbook for a falciparum infection. If you were exposed that night at the hotel then the onset Wednesday is right in the middle of the normal incubation time."

"How did I get it?" Kate asked, still more than a bit shaken by the day's revelations.

"Either you just happened to run into a very unlucky mosquito or Alexyev injected you with Falciparum sporozoites that night at the hotel." Kayla said, her tone indicating clearly which scenario she was betting on.

"There's medicine for this, isn't there? Rick questioned. "I know I took malaria pills everyday when I was deployed to certain places with the Marines.

Alexis continued, "Yes there are a number of drugs that either prevent infection from occurring, that's what Rick took, or to cure an infection that's already occurred. It's much, much easier to prevent the infection than to cure it.

"Falciparum is nothing to play with. It kills around 500,000 people per year, more than the next 5 most common infectious diseases combined." Alexis states grimly. "There are some facts I need everyone to concentrate on. Based on the maturity of the schizonts, I would estimate that another attack will occur within 48 - 72 hours. Plasmodium Falciparum is notorious for developing resistance to new drugs almost as fast as they are introduced. There are some areas in Africa, where it's resistant to all currently available drugs."

Her gaze swept across her audience, who were all looking decidedly pale. "We don't have the time to try a lot of drugs and based on the fact that it was obviously used as a weapon, I suspect it's a naturally resistant strain, or has been genetically modified. Unfortunately, we have no way of determining that ahead of time."

"So what do we do ? I don't know if she can take another attack like Wednesday night." Rick states.

"I have an idea," Alexis states a little hesitantly, "It's crazy…."

"Crazy seems to be the order of the day," Charlie observes. "Let's hear it."

"During the summer between my third and fourth year, I went on a Doctors Without Borders mission to Rwanda. I had a patient with a highly resistant strain of Falciparum. We had tried at least seven different drugs and she was going downhill fast.? Gave her an injection of Pyromethamine which had not been working and about ten minutes later, an aide gave my patient an injection of doxycycline which was intended for the patient in the next bed. An hour later, when I checked back, my patient showed marked improvement. She ultimately recovered and was discharged. I suggested that we try multi-drug therapy on some other patients and got my ass chewed for not following protocol."

"Those Castle women are a bunch of rebels," Rick gave a soft chuckle.

"We learned from the best, "Kaylah grinned.

"What do you think, Kate?" Alexis queried.

"Do it."

"Which drugs do you recommend?" Charlie asked, glancing at his wife who nodded her approval.  
"Pyromethamine, Doxycycline,Coartem and Primaquine."

"Doxycycline we have, the others will have to come from Edmonton."

"We may not have till Monday on this" Alexis warned.

"I think it's time to call in a favor from the RCAF."


	76. Chapter 76

**Tampa Orion Institute Friday Evening October 27**

Vienna felt a tingle of anticipation as she parked her silver Jaguar XJR at the Aerospace Building. This was either going to be one of the slickest deception operations in history or one of the worst disasters. She glanced at the time display on her phone. 11:30 PM. Fifteen minutes to showtime. Her hand trembled slightly as she placed it on the hand print reader. 'Opening night jitters' she promised herself.

George McWhorter was waiting in the lobby. "Where's Javier?" He asked, surprised to see Vienna alone in the middle of the night.

Vienna grimaced. "He's driving one of the trucks. Some macho Marine thing about not asking his guys to do something he wasn't willing to do himself."

It shouldn't be that dangerous should it?

"Who knows? We're not exactly dealing with entirely rational people. I'll worry until he gets back."

"Me too, shall we go watch the show?

When they emerged into the assembly bay, there was one obvious change from their earlier visit. The five winged drones were mounted below five small Valkyries. The trailers supporting the assemblies had been moved to where they were now lined up nose to tail parallel to the line of Valkyrie II's.

Brian Kilgore walked over to meet George and Vienna. He handed Vienna a handheld radio. Your callsign is Orion 6 actual. Mine is Valkyrie ground. Javier's is Hauler 6 and Valkyrie air operations is Eagle 6. If you and Mr. McWhorter would stay behind this railing. Mr. Rick would never forgive me if you got hurt."

She felt her throat constrict and couldn't quite get the words out, so she gave his fore arm a quick squeeze. He nodded and informed her "Lights out in 60 seconds." As he walked away, he keyed his radio, "Valkyrie Ground to all Valkyries, Party in 60, I say again Party in 60 seconds."

The time display on Vienna's Phone flicked over to 11:45 and things started to happen. The nine Valkyries activated their stealth systems and disappeared from human sight. The lights in the bay went out and the rollup door on the east side of the bay opened quickly.

The north side of the building was taken up by shipping/receiving docks. Eight of which were occupied by eighteen wheeler tractor-trailer rigs. The eight trucks were sitting with engines idling. On signal, the drivers shifted into gear and pulled out one by one, turned right and in single file went roaring down the east side of the building past the open door and headed for the front gate.

The last truck in line had hardly cleared the door when the six small Valkyries lifted off their trailers, streaked through the open door and into the night. The winged drones, which had no engines, were being powered by the attached Valkyrie. The dummy drones were simply a way to condition any hostile observers that things exiting the building would be visible. Hopefully that would clear the way for the Valkyrie II's after a decent delay to give observers the impression that nothing else would be exiting the building.

Three of the Valkyrie/drone combinations banked away, heading west toward the Gulf of Mexico. Once over the Gulf, the Valkyries detached the drones, which were designed to sink rapidly when they hit the water. The three Valkyries turned back to the northeast, where they would touch down at a prepared landing pad on one of the myriad unnamed, uninhabited islands that dot the Gulf coast. There they would sit until summoned.

Two of the other three Valkyries headed straight east toward the Atlantic. When they ditched the drones, the craft turned south toward a landing pad on a tiny mangrove island near Walker's Cay in the Bahamas. The third executed a turn and headed back to the northwest, but not to a hiding place. It had a mission to perform. Tonight, it was the hunter, predator not prey. Valkyrie - the chooser of the slain.

Time showed midnight, the Valkyrie II's lifted off and accelerated out into the night. The door shut with a metallic rattle and the lights clicked on. George and Vienna, stood blinking owlishly in the sudden glare. Brian walked over, stride almost bouncy with euphoria. "Wow, that's the first time we ever flew them out. Usually, we just roll the trailer out into the parking lot and take off straight up."

"You did good," she said, giving him a quick hug. "Let's go see the rest of the team."  
George and Brian followed Vienna over to where the team had gathered. She was careful to speak to every member. Sometimes exchanging a handshake, a hug or ,in the case of the younger members, a high five. Leadership skills were not something that came naturally, but she was a quick study and she learned from the best.

The Valkyrie pilots were not based at the Institute, but in the basement of a small radio station broadcast studio near Kissimmee. The station, which was owned by a friend of Rick's, actually made a decent profit, but its main purpose was camouflage for the Valkyrie Operations Center. With only four craft still flying, the inactive pilots clustered around the console for Valkyrie 6-3. It was where the fun was about to begin.

 **I-75 North of Wesley Chapel Early Morning Saturday October 28**

Javier Esposito is living the dream. Growing up, he only considered two career options: being a Marine or driving a big rig, and now he had done both. He checked his mirror, the other seven trucks were holding formation as briefed. Passing the Wesley Chapel exit, he keyed his mic, "Hauler 6 to all haulers, maintain your intervals and keep your eyes open. If they're going to take the bait, we should get a nibble soon. In the meantime good buddies, looks like we got ourselves a convoy."

"Orion 6 actual to Hauler 6, what are you - twelve?"

He chuckled, Vienna had loosened up a lot over the years, but she still tended to be a little tightly wound especially when she was worried. He wasn't too worried. He wasn't thrilled about being unarmed, but the other drivers were all from his security team, and all ex-marines. Well, except for the Brit, Trevor, who came to Orion after twenty in the Royal Marines. He could almost be considered a Marine; if you held your head just right and squinted a bit. They could handle anything the bad guys could come up with on short notice.

Eagle 6 to Hauler 6, guardian angel is in position, good luck.

"Copy that Eagle 6, thanks for the assist." Javier hung up his mic and called up the play list Hayley had installed on his phone for this mission. He pressed play and the voice of Jerry Reed blasted from the cab speakers.

' _Eastbound and down, loaded up and truckin'_  
 _'We're gonna do what they say can't be done..._

He was halfway through Elvis' cover of 'Promised Land', when his radio crackled.  
"Hauler 1-8 to Hauler 6, we just picked up a tail. Four SUV's painted up in black and tan. Looks like they mean business."

Javier glanced at his mirror. The first of the SUV was rapidly overtaking, light bar flashing. When it drew even with his rear quarter, the driver flashed his headlights.

"Hauler 6 to all Haulers - Ease it off the road. Don't start anything if they don't."  
The SUV pulled in front of Javier's rig and two men in FHP uniforms exited. One remained in front, with his hand ostentatiously on his sidearm. The second walked to the driver's door and motioned Javier to roll his window down. "Step out off the truck, sir." He ordered.

Javier climbed down and turned to face the 'officer'. "Is there a problem?"

"What are you carrying , sir?"

"Ping Pong balls." Javier stated with a straight face.

"Do you think I'm stupid? "

"No sir, not at all."

"We got a tip that you might be hauling contraband. Open the back."

"Sorry sir, I'm not allowed to open the trailer. I'll lose my job."

"Unlock it then, I'll open it."

"It's not locked."

The 'officer' strode to the rear of the trailer, undid the latch, swung the doors open and was immediately inundated by a veritable Niagara of ping pong balls. Javier bit his lower lip, stifling a laugh. The look on the trooper's face was priceless, ultimate embarrassment mixed with red hot anger. For a moment, it looked as if he might try something, but he muttered a curse and stomped to his vehicle, climbed in along with his passenger and burned rubber getting back on the highway. The other three vehicles followed close behind.

Javier walked down the line of trucks making certain that his men were unhurt. He found them all nearly incapacitated by deep down body shaking laughter. When he reached the last truck, the driver gave him a thumbs up.

"My guy threw me up against the fender of his car," Trevor chuckled. "I took the opportunity to place the tracking beacon."

"Good work," Javier replied. "Maybe we'll find the rat's nest."

"Orion 6 actual to Hauler 6, everyone okay?"

"Hauler 6 to all Orions, no friendly casualties, we placed one beacon, Haulers are Romeo Tango Bravo.

"Eagle 6 to all Orions, confirm good beacon. Valkyrie 6-3 has got the scent."

 **Orion Institute Early Morning Saturday October 28**

Vienna felt a bit light-headed as she released the breath she had been holding for what seemed like forever. Rick had been right as usual. They had been under observation and the bad guys had chasers available to run down any attempt to ship any material out ahead of the court order.

George looked a little overwhelmed. "What would they have done if there had actually been any material on the trucks? Hijack?"

"I don't see any other explanation for the risk they took." Vienna responded. "They're not going to be satisfied with a third, they're after it all."

"Where are the large Valkyries going."

"Rick wanted to hide them on the moon….."

"The moon?" George choked "Could they do that?"

"Oh yes, but I told him that was over the top, even for him. So one is going to Ft, Jefferson in the Dry Tortugas, another one to Greenland and the last one to the Azores."

"I think I've had enough excitement for one day," George yawned. I've got a hearing on Monday to prepare for. I think I'll head on home."

"See you Monday then," Vienna acknowledged. "I'll leave as soon as the Valkyries are down and Javier returns."

 **Valkyrie 6-3 Port of Miami Saturday Morning October 28**

Valkyrie 6-3 held position a thousand feet above above the Port of Miami's Container Terminal Berth W-7. Its cameras had already recorded the arrival of the four black SUV's that it had followed from Tampa. Immediately upon arrival the four vehicles were loaded into containers and the medium size container ship occupying Berth W-7 began unloading its cargo, hiding the SUV containers among the others being off-loaded. The ship carried Sri Lankan registry, which provided no information whatever as to the actual owner of the vessel.

The Valkyrie Operations Center was nearly deserted, with only a normal watch of two pilots. Jessica Watts, who was flying 6-3, sat bolt upright and moved the joystick frantically. The craft was supposed to be hovering at one thousand feet, but it was descending. Her hands flew across the screen, tapping controls and issuing commands. Nothing worked, the Valkyrie continued to descend, almost as if it were going to land on the forecastle of the ship they were observing.

Zach Morgan, the senior pilot on duty, leaned over and repeated the same procedures that Jessica had just completed. The descent stopped at one hundred feet, and they both breathed a sigh of relief. Relief that turned sour when the screen flickered and a targeting reticle appeared. The crosshairs were centered on the first row of containers.

"Oh shit," They exclaimed together. This was bad, really, really bad. If it fired…unemployment or worse was looking more likely with every tick of the clock.

It fired. Thor's Hammer annihilated the forward half of the first row of containers and turned the forecastle into so much scrap metal. Flames leaped up twenty feet or more. Valkyrie 6-3 suddenly rocketed vertically to five thousand feet and resumed its hover.

"I think we better call Vienna." Zach stated without enthusiasm.

"Yeah, hang, I really liked this job."

Vienna was enjoying a late breakfast with her family, when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen. If it wasn't an emergency, it would have to wait until breakfast was over. The screen fairly screamed emergency.

"Valkyrie Operations" it read, "911"

Giving her husband an apologetic shrug, she stepped into her home office and pressed the call back button.

"Vienna, this is Zach. We had a small accident."

"Don't tell me we lost 6 - 3."

"Er… no we didn't exactly lose it, we just lost control of it."

"Where is it? Did it crash?" A Valkyrie crash that revealed the technology's existence was pretty much her personal worst nightmare.

"It's in Miami, no it didn't crash."

"Miami? What's it doing in Miami.?"

"We trailed the guys who stopped Javier to the Port of Miami. We had 6-3 parked at a thousand feet over the dock, and suddenly it stopped responding to control inputs."

"But it didn't crash?'

"No."

"So what happened?"

"We kinda blew up a ship."

"YOU WHAT?" Well now I have a new personal worst nightmare."Was anyone hurt?"

"Don't think so, there were only a few people around. But now half of the cop cars in Florida are parked around the dock and the Coast Guard just showed up."

"Okay, let me log on and see if I can override other inputs and take over." She powered up her computer and typed in her password. The opening screen was not her normal home page, but rather a yellowish flag that nearly filled the screen. In the center of the flag was a coiled rattlesnake outlined in red. Across the bottom of the flag in large red letters, were the words 'Don't Tread On Me'.

"Oh, Dear God!"


	77. Chapter 77

**Red Wolf District Hospital Saturday Morning October 28**

Kate drew her finger back from the screen, unable to completely suppress a slight tremor as she contemplated the magnitude of what she had just done. She gave Rick the patented Beckett glare. "I can't believe I let you talk me into that."

"You've got to admit that was fun." Rick replied with a cheeky grin.

"Richard Castle, I just blew up a ship! That's not something I normally do for entertainment."

"Well technically, you only blew up a little bit of the ship."

"Oh, that makes everything better, I'm only technically guilty of piracy." She scoffed

"Ooh, you'd look amazing in a sexy pirate costume."

"Rick, I'm serious…"

"I know…" Rick went from playful to serious with a speed that left Kate dizzy. He held up his hands, liberally swathed in gauze. "I would have done it , but I can't operate the computer with these."

"You got some 'splaining to do Ricky. I went along with your little felonius adventure because I trust you. But now I want an explanation, a very thorough explanation."

"Okay, but first, I need to send an e-mail, Will you…"

"You promise I'm not going to blow up anything?"

"Promise."

"All right, what do you want me to do?"

"Search for a file named ."

"Okay, got it."

"Double click."

"It says 'Enter Target…Rick I'm going to shoot you."

"Kate, easy there, that's just the computer we're changing. Type 'smartchick "

"So if we're not blowing something up, what are we doing?" Kate asked with a skeptical eyebrow raise.

"We're changing the home page on Vienna's home computer to a picture of the Gadsden Flag."

"The 'Rattlesnake Flag'?" Kate questioned. Why would Rick be needing to send a picture of a 250 year -old flag?

History buff. I love this woman!

"Yeah, I'm sending Vienna a message. She'll know I'm alive and that I was responsible for the explosion. Otherwise, the kid's will probably think they messed up somehow."

"Now back to the explosion." Kate prompted.

"Bring the Valkyrie screen shot back up. First, they put the four SUV's in containers but they're not loading them onto the ship. Which means…"

"They're going to haul them away and use them somewhere else." Kate completed the thought.

"Precisely and since the crew unloading the ship has to be in on it, that means there's something else being unloaded that we wouldn't like."

"That's logical, Castle, but it's not enough to get a warrant." Kate said apologetically.

"But wait, there's more." Rick "grimaced. "See the tall guy beside the container on the left?"

"Yeah."

"I know him."

Beckett gave him a searching glance. "I'd say from your expression you two are not exactly best bud's. Who is he? "

"Understatement of the decade, Kate. His name is Lazlo Vukovic. He's number two on my list of people to meet in a dark alley. If he's hanging around, something bad is about to happen."

In the short time that she had known him, Rick Castle had demonstrated over and over that there were few limits on his determination and the means he would employ to accomplish his mission. But somehow this demonstration seemed significant, seemed bigger. To be honest, the sheer capacity for direct and violent action gave her more than a few goosebumps.

"We blew up a ship to attract the notice of the Miami PD and Coast Guard because you thought something was going on but didn't have enough evidence to justify a search warrant." More statement than question.

"Umm yeah, that pretty much sums it up."

"What if you're wrong and it's just a load of bananas?"

"I'm not wrong, but if I were, I'd make sure the owner was compensated for any damages."

"Well, it looks like you're going to get your wish," she noted, peering intensely at the video feed from the Valkyrie. Dozens of law enforcement vehicles were streaming into the container dock from every direction. Patrol cars, SWAT vans and even a couple of Bearcat armored vehicles swarmed the area around Berth 17 with lights flashing and sirens blaring. The dozen or or so men on the dock couldn't raise their hands fast enough when confronted with overwhelming firepower. A Coast Guard response boat swept in and started dousing the still blazing forecastle with streams of water.

SWAT teams charged up the two gangways, sensing the need to get control of personnel that might still be onboard. For now, they avoided the forward part of the ship, where flames still flickered and leaped skyward. A group of men suddenly appeared out of the container stacks just forward of midship. Perhaps they were fleeing the flames or trying to escape or simply to go out in a blaze of glory. These were armed with automatic rifles and at least two RPG's. A vicious firefight erupted among the stacked containers, but it was over quickly and the SWAT Team Leader sent an all clear.

A single explosion rocked the ship, flinging jagged bits of hot metal into the air. Some of the shrapnel penetrated containers in the second row and second and third explosions blasted even more containers in a rapidly escalating chain reaction.

Rick pounded his fist on the mattress of his hospital bed. "Get out, get them out."

Kate stole a quick glance at Rick. His jaw was clamped tightly shut. So much so that she could see the pulse hammering in his neck. His eyes dark and hard. She clasped his forearm, cursing the bulky dressings that prevented the intertwining of their fingers, "What is it Rick?"

"The ship seems to be carrying munitions. There's going to be a hell of a blast any second now. They need to get the SWAT guys off and pull everyone else back." The ground commander evidently came to much the same conclusion. The SWAT Teams came pelting back down the gangways considerably faster than they had gone up. All the vehicles, with the exception of the Bearcats, backed away, and the officers hunkered down behind the vehicles. Fire trucks that were now arriving were held back, as it was deemed too dangerous to get close enough to fight the fire effectively.  
There was a small explosion, followed immediately by a much larger one. The ship bucked like a wild thing, broke in half and sank quickly.

"Pretty feisty bunch of bananas there Sparrow Hawk."

"Don't gloat Rick. It's not attractive."

"Press control-P." Rick directed Kate. "That will transfer control of the Valkyrie back to the pilot."

"Okay, done?"

Alexis walked in, just as Kate was closing Rick's computer. "Good morning guys."

"Good morning," Rick and Kate answered together.

"That's so cute, do you do that a lot?"

"Yeah," They both replied, eliciting a giggle from Alexis.

"Well, I wanted to bring you up to speed. First though, how are you feeling, Kate?"

"Good," she replied. "I don't really feel any after effects from Tuesday night."

"No headache?"

"Nope, no headache."

"That's good, I'm going to discharge you from the hospital this afternoon. But, the first sign of a headache, I want you back here. Got it?"

"Absolutely," Kate agreed. "I don't want to go through that nightmare again."

"I'm staying in Kayla's guest house. It's two-bedroom, so you can stay there if you like."

"Okay, I'll move my stuff over this afternoon."

"That was the good news. Now, I've got some not so good news. The interferon, gamma globulin and the Anti-malarials were not available in Edmonton. The nearest source was Toronto. They were put on a commercial flight to Edmonton just a little while ago. The RCAF will pick them up tomorrow and fly them here. We should have everything by tomorrow night, so try not to have another attack before then."

"Got it, no attack."

"Now, as for you." She turned to Rick with mock severity. He gulped. "I need to change your dressings and check the skin grafts. Kate, you probably don't want to see this."

"I think I'll just take a walk, could use some fresh air and exercise. Half hour?"

"Should be plenty." Alexis began to layout her supplies as Kate walked out.

Twenty minutes later, Alexis finished her inspection and redressed the surgical sites.

"What's the verdict doc?" Rick asked with just a hint of concern.

"Skin grafts look good. The excisions look fine. I'm going to use a less bulky dressing on your hands, so you should be able to feed yourself and use your laptop."

Thank God." Rick cheered. "When can I walk?"

Alexis pondered, "I'd say a week, if nothing happens."

 **Tampa Vienna's Home Saturday Morning October 28**

"Oh Dear God." Vienna exclaimed as the meaning of the image on her computer screen registered in her mind. "Oh dear God, He's alive." Her husband appeared at her office door, drawn by her initial outburst.

"What is it, What happened?"

She looked up, her features displaying a mixture of unbridled joy and tightly controlled fear. "Rick's alive." A tear tracked down her cheek and her husband drew her up into a tight hug.

"He wouldn't leave you." He soothed her.

"I know. Now we need to deal with the murder charge, and he can come home."

"Next week is going to be rough isn't it?" Akahiro asked. Still holding his wife.

Vienna nodded, "Probably much worse than 'rough'. Maybe the worst week of my life."

"I have an idea. Maybe we take the kids to Animal Kingdom, this afternoon. We could have dinner at Rain Forest Cafe. You need to recharge your batteries for next week."

"Sounds good, I have a couple of phone calls to make while you round up the kids."

She swiped her phone and selected speed dial three. As usual, Jordan answered on the first ring. "Morning Vienna, I assume since you're calling on a Saturday morning that you have news about Rick."

"He's alive. Jordan."

"Oh thank God. where is he, is Kate with him?"

"Can't answer either of those questions. All I know is he's alive." Vienna was silent for a half minute or so as she processed a sudden thought that popped into her head. "He didn't….He wouldn't… He would!…He did!

"Vienna, what are you talking about?"

"Umm…sorry Jordan. You know about the explosion at the Port of Miami this morning, right?"

"Yes, of course. The director just briefed me."

We had a Valkyrie watching that ship and the pilot lost control, and then it fired on the ship. That was the first explosion. Rick did it, he overrode the controls and fired on the ship. He suspects something is going on with the ship and that was the only way he had to draw attention to it."

Jordan sighed a sigh that was only a little for dramatic effect. "What are we going to do with him Vienna?"

"Just be glad he's on our side."

"I'll call you as soon as there's any news about the ship.

"Thanks."

Vienna ended the call and selected speed dial two.

"Morning Vienna"

"Morning Javi, I have some news about Rick. Is Hayley there by any chance?"

"Yeah, she's here, we were just leaving to go to brunch"

"Put her on speaker."

"Hi Vienna."

"Hayley. Any way as I told Javier, Rick's alive. I don't know where he is or how he is. Only that he's alive.

"What about Kate?" Hayley asked.

"Don't know, sorry."

"Thanks for calling, Vienna."

 **Red Wolf District Hospital Saturday Afternoon October 28**

Kate returned from transferring her bags to Kaylah's guest house bearing gifts.: two roast beef sandwiches and large order of fresh cut waffle fries. Rick was making up for lost time on his laptop. He looked up and showed her the first unbridled smile in far too long. It stopped her in her tracks, almost pinning her to the wall. "Wow, is that smile for me, the food, or that you have your toy back?"

"Oh, it's all yours sweetheart." He closed his laptop and patted the bed beside him.

"Come here." After she perched herself on the edge of his bed, leaned over for a hug and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"You called me 'sweetheart' ." She observed.

"Yes."

"Does that mean we're good?"

"Good, better than good- extraordinary." He snaked his arm around her waist, giving her a gentle squeeze and pulling her down to return her kiss. His stomach growled and they both laughed.

He pointed toward himself. "This smile is for the food. What did you bring?"

"Beef on weck and fresh cut waffle fries." Your doctor says no alcohol, so no Sam Adams. But they did have Blue Sky Root Beer, so I got you that."

Rick unwrapped the sandwich with haste made clumsy by his still bandaged fingers. He took a man-sized bite and chewed with a beatific smile and moans of pleasure that raised a bumper crop of goose bumps on Kate. "Oh this is so good. I haven't had this in years.". With the edge off his hunger, he slowed down to a normal pace. "Kate, can we talk a bit while we eat?"

"Sure, what would you like to talk about?"

"Just normal stuff, we haven't really had a lot of time to just talk, you know, just getting to know each other."

"Oh, Okay."

"Tell me about young Kate. You know, before the kidnapping."

"My mother, her name was Constanza, was from an influential family in Argentina. She and I were not real close. She was very regal and not really the warm cuddly type of mom. I know she cared for me, but she was mostly off doing her things and I was home with a succession of nannies. The two top priorities in her life were her riding and my father's political career. Maybe I was her third priority."

"Riding, as in horses?"

"Yeah, she was on the Argentine equestrian team. She was really quite good. She won a silver medal in the Pan American Games and finished fourth in the Olympics."

"Did you ride?"

"Oh, yeah, she insisted that I learn to ride, and dance."

"She's not still alive, is she?"

"No, she was killed in a plane crash when I was eight. My father took it hard. but ironically it brought us closer together. The two years between my mother passing away and the kidnapping were the happiest of my life."

"Your mother taught you to ride and dance, did your father teach you anything?"

"He had always wanted a son, and since all he had was me, he treated me like a son. He taught me to hunt and fish and play soccer. Boys picked on me so I was determined to outdo them.

"So the super sexy Kate Beckett was a tomboy? Who would have thunk it?

"Kate felt a heat on her cheeks. "You think I'm sexy?"

"Smokin, " He grinned. "What about after the kidnapping?"

"There were threats against me, so my father sent me to Argentina to stay with my mother's family. I stayed there for two years, and it was the worst two years of my life." A stray tear trailed down her cheek. Rick reached up to wipe it gently away.

"Why was it so bad?"

"I don't know, my grandparents belittled me and my cousins bullied me. I finally convinced my father to get me out of there. But instead of taking me home, he made arrangements to send me to the U.S. The Becketts were wonderful, but I never forgave my father for sending me away."

"I guess it's my turn." Rick offered. Kate nodded approval while reaching for a tissue on the rolling table.

"I told you about my mother and father."

"Yeah, did you know your father at all?"

"Sadly, no. I was too young when he was killed. But by all accounts, he was a good man."

"His son is pretty special too." Kate smiled. "You had a grandfather, right?"

"I did, he was an amazing man, he taught me a lot. Ironically, he was a Marine too. He lied about his age so he could join the Marines. He actually had his sixteenth birthday on a troopship in the middle of the Atlantic on the way to France.

He taught me to shoot by sending me out with only one cartridge at a time. If I came back with game, I'd get another cartridge and supper. If I came back with no cartridge and no game, I wouldn't get another cartridge for a week and I'd go to bed without supper that night."

"I bet you didn't go hungry very often." Kate grinned.

" Not after the first month or so. He was renowned in the area for making high quality moonshine. My first paying job was cleaning the still out between runs."

"How old were you then?"

"Six."

"Six! You were a real wild child."

Rick chuckled,"You have no idea. My buddies and I built a still in the chemistry lab in eighth grade."

"You didn't get caught?"

"Yeah, we got caught - eventually."

"Did they expel you?"

"Nah, the principal confiscated our product. He was really mellow for a few weeks after that."

Kate laughed until she was gasping for breath. "You know, when we first met, I thought you were just a wimpy, geeky stick-in-the mud college professor. You're a badass - ten times worse than I ever was."

By 9:00 PM, they were both hovering on the edge of sleep. Kate stood and leaned over to kiss Rick on the forehead. "I think I'm going to call it a night. It's been a long day and I feel really wiped out."

"Okay sweetheart, sleep well and I'll see you in the morning." He was snoring quietly before she made it out of the room.


	78. Chapter 78

**Red Wolf District Hospital Sunday Morning October 29**

Kate was awakened by the soft click of a door closing. Enough light crept around the edges of the shade on the single window in the room to realize that she didn't recognize her surroundings. "Why do I feel so crappy? I must have tied one on last night. No, I was with Rick. Then, oh I'm in Kayla's guest house."

"I'm sorry if I woke you."

The soft voice startled her and she rolled over to face the doorway. "Alexis?"

"Sorry Kate, I've been covering the night shift, just got off."

"Don't worry about it, I was already awake. Kate sat up so that her feet rested on the floor and stood stretching to get the kinks out. The room seemed to tilt and she took a stumbling step to regain her balance.

"Kate? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I think I just stood up too fast."

Alexis looked skeptical, "You're sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just going to jump in the shower. Then I'll head over to the hospital."

Rick was thoroughly engrossed with something on his laptop when Kate stepped through the door of his room. He didn't notice her presence at first and she studied his appearance. He had regained much of his normal color, banishing the hospital pallor that had settled on him since he arrived Wednesday night. The godawful hospital gown was gone, replaced by a pair of pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt. He was clean shaven, and she wondered if he had somehow conned - charmed one of the nurses into shaving him. If so, they might need to have a friendly discussion. All in all, except for the dressings on his hands and feet, he looked remarkably fine for a man who had cheated death so narrowly.

Suddenly he straightened and swiveled his head in her direction. A huge smile erupted as he realized his Kate radar was fully functional. "Hey beautiful." He opened his arms and she stepped into his embrace. trapped between his legs as he dangled his feet over the edge of the mattress. She groaned in frustration. Kate had learned that she was basically a full contact hugger. There was something fundamentally unsatisfying about a hug with only chest to chest contact.

Rick seemed to sense her frustration, letting his hands slide down to her hips. He pulled her in until he could feel the heat of her like a physical ache and…

"Now that's what I like to see…patients on the road to recovery." Kayla strolled in while Kate and Rick were caught up in each other. "Oh am I interrupting something?"

"Yes!" They cried out together.

"Hey, I got wolf bit for y'all. There damn well better be something going on."

Kate twisted out of the embrace and engulfed the younger woman. "Kayla, I'm so sorry."

Kayla laughed, "You didn't bite me, it's not your fault. If nothing else, it'll be a great story to tell the grandkids."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, my reasonably competent surgeon assures me that I'll get at least ninety percent of the function back. It won't interfere with my job."

"I'm so glad," Kate said giving her another squeeze.

"All right, go back to what you were doing." She swept out, all energy and bustle.

Kate turned back to Rick, "What were you so involved in when I arrived?"

"Thinking." Rick replied. Patting the mattress beside him, he continued. "I could use your help."

"Love to," she replied. Boosting herself onto the bed, she settled in beside Rick. He placed the computer on the rolling tray table and positioned it so that Kate could easily see the screen.  
"So whatcha thinking about?"

"It's quite a list."

"That's fine, I've got the time."

"When you walked in, I was thinking about what's going to happen at the Institute tomorrow. "

"What is happening? I barely remember anything from the night at the hotel until I arrived at the cabin. I do remember the murder charge. but not the result." Kate admitted.

Rick grimaced, as if the very words he had to speak were bitter. "The murder charge is still standing. The District Attorney is determined to prosecute in spite of the evidence. That's not the worst thing however. The Russian Federation is suing me personally on the behalf of Sergei Alexyev."

"For what?" Kate asked indignantly.

"Wrongful death." He has to restrain himself from a more demonstrative description. But not with Kate there. "They're trying to take Orion away from me."

"Uh…take Orion?…what?…how?" Kate was having a difficult time wrapping her mind around the magnitude of what Rick was telling her.

"They decided that my one third share in the Institute was fair compensation. Even a third share is too much, there's no way the Institute could survive with a hostile partner. There's a preliminary hearing this week."  
" Surely the judge will dismiss the case, there's no grounds for wrongful death." Kate exclaimed.

"It appears this judge is bought and paid for," Rick snorted. "Last week he ordered Vienna to turn over all the Institute's paper records. The Russians are going to show up in the morning to take possession of the documents."

"What are you going to do?" Kate asked, but then she noticed the self-satisfied smirk that he was trying unsuccessfully to repress. "You planned on this, didn't you?"

He scrolled to the folder labeled 'Maskirovka' "Open this folder and read it."

"Masquerade, hmm." She only read for a few seconds when her eyes went wide and she cast him a disbelieving glance. Well maybe not completely disbelieving, she knew him well enough to not just cavalierly dismiss anything he said. So, half disbelieving, or less. "You really have a complete set of fake documents? And you shut the Institute down? Unbelievable."

"Kate, are you okay? He questioned as she lay back and brought both hands up in fists to massage her temples.

"Yes…no…I don't know. I just feel wiped out and this headache is getting worse."

He reached for the nurse call button, but her hand reached out to restrain his. "No, Rick, it's just a headache. I'll just….."

"Let me get a doctor," he persisted, fending her off with his left arm while pressing the call button wth his right.

Kate fell back against the raised mattress with a frustrated sigh. "Kate don't be such a hammerhead." Rick chided. "You're even more stoic about pain and medicine than I am - which is quite an achievement."

She elbowed him in the side, "You called me a hammerhead."

"That's cause you are."

"What does that mean anyway? I need to know whether to be mildly annoyed or totally pissed."

Rick chuckled, "More to the mildly annoyed side. It's a Marine term, means pathologically stubborn."

Kayla bustled in, "What's up?"

"Kate has a headache, and it seems to be getting worse," Rick answered.

"Okay." let's see if you're running a fever." Kayla opened a drawer in the nightstand next to Kate's bed , pulled out a digital thermometer and popped it into Kate's mouth. In a few seconds, the device beeped and held it up to read the display. "Ninety-nine point six." She read with a hint of concern. "Let's be proactive and get some Ibuprofen in your system and see if we can stay ahead of the curve." She picked up Kate's chart and made some quick notations, a bit awkward with her left arm and shoulder immobilized. "I'm going to have the nurse start checking your temp every half hour."

"Do we know the ETA on the meds?" Rick inquired.

"No, nothing yet." I'll see if Charlie can find out anything.  
On her way out the door , she turned to Kate, "Don't be a hammerhead, Kate. If it gets worse, let me or the nurse know."

Kayla had hardly disappeared down the hall, when Kate elbowed Rick, "She got that from you, didn't she?"

 **Tampa Home of Lainie Parish Sunday Morning October 29**

Lainie was having her second cup of coffee and polishing off a short stack of french toast, while perusing the Sunday crossword. Let's see, six letter word for "Artificial slope that protects the wall of a medieval castle." Starts with G. Her doorbell chimed, interrupting her thoughts.

She couldn't have been more surprised if Gladys Knight and the Pips had shown up at her door singing I Heard it Through the Grapevine. She opened the door and greeted the flamboyant, middle-aged redhead. "Martha, this is certainly a surprise. Is Alexis okay?" Lainie had met Martha Rodgers a couple of times, since Alexis had stayed with Martha while she worked summer internships with Lainie at the Institute.

"I'm sorry, to just show up unannounced Dr. Parish, but needs must when the devil drives, as they say."

"Won't you come in Martha?"

"Thank you Dr. Parish…."

"Lainie please, Martha."

"Lainie I have something for you. I'm afraid that I either don't know the answers to your inevitable questions or I can't answer them. But please believe that it is critically important.

"This sounds like something we should sit down for." Lainie observed as she pointed Martha toward an overstuffed sofa and seated opposite in an armchair.

Martha opened the slim briefcase she carried , and extracted a stack of manila envelopes. "There's a message here for each of your staff. It gives the GPS location of a meeting place where you and your staff will assemble promptly at 08:00 tomorrow morning. Transportation will be provided from that location to the final destination. I will meet you there and give everyone a more detailed explanation."

"What exactly is your role in this, Martha?"

"Well, as you know, I'm Alexis' great aunt. Which makes me Rick's cousin." She paused, seemingly for dramatic effect before continuing. "A little known fact is that I'm also his accountant. I also keep an eye on the businesses he owns, or has part ownership in, and a number of charitable ventures"

"What about your acting career?"

"Oh, I retired from that a couple of years ago. Rick was looking for a new accountant and I was ready to go somewhere other than New York. Thought I'd put my degree to some use. So it was a good deal for everyone. Oh. please tell all your staff to leave their cell phones at home. They are too easy to track."

"This has something to do with the Russian thing, doesn't it?"

"This is Phase 3 of Rick's plan to protect the Institute. It's a bit dramatic." Martha smiled. He called this phase Perestroika - Restructuring..

 **Tampa Orion Institute Sunday Noon October 29**

Vienna stood as George McWhorter and Javier entered her office. She motioned them to the conference table and joined them. Javier opened the bag that he was carrying and passed out soup and sandwiches from the deli just down Fletcher Avenue from the Institute. After a few bites, Vienna turned to George, "You called this meeting, What's up."

"I got a call from the Russian's attorney earlier this morning. They are bringing a gaggle of 'security' personnel from the consulate in Miami to load the documents. I suspect their security personnel are probably intelligence specialists."

"Fine," Vienna huffed. "We'll just have to take the pallets of boxes out to the trucks and their goons can load to their heart's content."

"They're expecting to have unfettered access to all the buildings…"

"No." Vienna's eyes flashed fire "The buildings are off-limits to non-employees.."

"I told the District Attorney this morning that the judge's order only requires us to turn over documents. not to conduct an open house."

"And what did the slimy creep have to say about that?" Vienna demanded.

"He said that he would personally come and insure that everything was 'fair' and 'transparent'.

George noticed Vienna's gaze shift to Musashi's sword on its stand on her credenza.

"He also said that he was bringing a contingent of the Hillsborough County Sheriff's Department. to enforce the order."

"Alan would never go along with it." Vienna stated confidently. She knew Alan Rainey, the Sheriff and considered him a friend. He had always been a man of integrity. surely he wouldn't be a part of such a gross miscarriage of justice.

"I hope not, " George stated. "But what if he does?"

"Then we implement Phase 4 of Rick's plan. And I probably go to jail."

"What's Phase 4?" Javier spoke for the first time.

"Scorched Earth."

 **Red Wolf District Hospital Sunday Afternoon October 29**

Kayla entered Rick's room to find he and Kate in a seemingly deep discussion of something on Rick's laptop. He was trailing his forefinger around the screen while Kate leaned forward tapping a pen lightly against her cheek. They leaning into one another, seemingly joined at the shoulder and a distinct contentment vibe permeated the room.

"Hey guys," Kayla called. "I come bearing news and food." Her friends looked a bit disoriented for a second. "Man you two were in the zone." Kayla teased. Her friends exchanged a sheepish glance and then chuckled softly.

"Yep," Kate replied, popping the final p for emphasis. "Rick was giving me a tutorial on geopolitics."

"Rick, you're such a romantic." Kayla shook her head in mock bewilderment. "You've got a woman like Kate in your bed, and the best you can come up with is geopolitics?"

"Just wait till I get out of this hospital." Rick declared.

"Promises, promises." Kate said with a mischievous smile.

"Okay, back to business. I brought you some lunch, King Salmon chowder from Gertie's'. and one of her famous Everything Brownies for dessert.

"Wow, this looks - and smells - amazing." Kate enthused as she scooped up a spoonful and tasted the rich broth. "You said you had news."

"Charlie talked to the RCAF and the plane is grounded in Whitehorse because of a winter storm that's coming in from the southeast. Your medication is not going to arrive until tomorrow morning at the earliest. So eat up, you're going to need all your strength."

"So, where were we?" Kate asked as they finished lunch and cleaned up.

"We were talking about the key to world domination."

"Right, the Brzezinski hypothesis. The Eurasian landmass is is the pivot of history. Who controls Eurasia controls the world."

"How'd you know that?" Rick asked, mightily impressed, even a bit shocked.

"I didn't party all the time I was in school, Rick. I managed to take a couple of political science classes."

"That is so hot!" _God I love this woman_. "Do you know the rest of the quote?"

"No, I don't think I ever heard anymore."

"It goes like this. Who controls central Asia controls the Eurasian landmass and Who controls Uzbekistan controls central Asia. Now you might say what does this have to do with anything. I've been trying to make sense out of everything that's happened in the last few weeks. There's been some heavy stuff raining down on us. Think about it. An almost successful nuclear attack, chemical and biological weapons on U.S. soil using two different highly sophisticated engineered viruses and maybe even the Malaria parasites if we find out that they've been genetically modified. We've still got a substantial number of nukes unaccounted for and who knows how much of the nerve agent and biologics are still floating around."

"Rick, if you accept the Brzezinski hypothesis, then we should think about who is trying to gain control of Central Asia. If that is the short term goal, then the attacks on us were meant to keep us from interfering. They aren't trying to destroy us, just weaken us to the point where we can't affect their plans."

"You're right." Rick acknowledged. "But I think we already know who that is."

"Russia?

"Well, not just Russia, I don't think they're strong enough to do it on their own."

"Who then?"

"Ever hear of the SCO?"

"No, I don't think so."

"It stands for Shanghai Cooperative Organization. The amazing thing is that it is the most powerful economic, political and military alliance in history and no one has ever heard of it."

"Who's in it?" Kate asked. "China, I guess since it's called the Shanghai Cooperative Organization."

"Yeah, China, Russia, Uzbekistan, Kirghizistan, Tajikistan and Kazakhstan. India and Pakistan are supposed to be joining but it hasn't happened yet." All together it represents half of the people on the planet, nearly half of the landmass and well over half of the natural resources.

"In other words, potentially a very nasty enemy." Kate stated.

Alexis stepped into the room. "Hi Kate, how are you feeling?"

"Kind of crappy actually."

"It's time to check your temp again." She popped the thermometer into Kate's mouth and checked the display after it beeped. 101.2. "I think at this point, you're likely to have another attack before the meds get here, so we're going to have to ride it out. You'll have much better supportive care here than you did at the cabin so it shouldn't be as bad.

"I'm going to start an IV so we can give you Meperidine if you start having the shaking chills. I'm also going to have the nurses get you set up with a cold water circulator. No more barefoot snow carrying. I'll be here with you all night, so we'll just have to see what happens."

"Thanks Alexis,"

"Thanks pumpkin." Rick added.

"That's Doctor Pumpkin to you Mr. Castle."


	79. Chapter 79

**Red Wolf District Hospital Monday Morning October 29**

Alexis climbed wearily into wakefulness. She was curled up in a not so comfortable chair and the phone in the side pocket of her scrubs was buzzing incessantly. She lifted the infernal device from her pocket and silenced the alarm with decisive swipe of her forefinger. The time display showed 05:00. It had been a long, long night.

Kate's fever had begun climbing steadily around 8:00 PM, leaving no doubt that she was in the throes of another malaria episode. She and Kayla had endeavored to move Kate to her own room, since she couldn't continue to share the narrow hospital bed with Rick. Unfortunately, they forgot for a few seconds who they were dealing with - probably fatigue rather than temporary insanity- and Rick declared that he would burn the hospital down and plow the ground with salt if any one tried to separate them. Alexis and Kayla came to their senses, not willing to call him on it, and quickly found an acceptable compromise. Roll a bed in from another room and park it beside Rick's.

Alexis rose with a stretch and looked over her patient. Kate was hooked up to a monitor, which was beeping softly with a steady comforting rhythm. Pulse-check, BP - check, Oxygen Saturation - check, Core Temp - 102.6, but it had been holding steady for the last two hours. So far no uncontrolled spike in temp, probably won't last, but so far so good. Cold water circulator functioning properly, The bag of Lactated Ringer's with 5% dextrose was only half gone, so not time to change bags. All in all everything was going as well as could be expected. In Alexis admittedly limited experience, that usually meant that the other shoe was about to drop.

Before she returned to her chair, she noticed that Kate and Rick' s fingers were intertwined even in sleep. She smiled, they were just so darned cute. Kayla had filled her in on their adventures, and it was clear this was a love story for the ages. And a very long night. Alexis reset her alarm and folded her body back into the chair. Maybe I can get Rick to spring for a more comfortable chair was her last thought as she dozed off.

 **Tampa Parking lot Monday Morning October 29**

Lainie was early, arriving at the GPS coordinates Martha had given her by 07:40. The location was a parking lot in a business center. The center was not occupied, and thus the parking lot was deserted. As she approached the building, she saw Martha Rodgers standing beside a deep blue Mercedes CLS. Marta was dresses in a rather sedate, for her, forest green pant suit, a floppy hat and sunglasses. Lainie parked near the Mercedes and stepped out. "Good morning, Martha."  
"Good morning dear, It looks like the rest of your team is on time as well." Indeed, as Lainie glanced back toward the entrance, she saw a line of vehicles heading in their direction. When the last of Lainie's staff were gathered around Martha, another vehicle turned in behind them. It was a large bus, The kind that a pop star might travel in, all gleaming paint and darkly tinted windows. The bus slowed to a step near the group with a hiss of air brakes venting, and the door opened. "If everyone will get on board," Martha announced. "We'll be on our way to our final destination."

"Are you going with us?" Lainie asked. as it became clear that Martha was not planning to board the bus.

"No dear," She responded. "I'm going to drive, I have other places to go, but I'll be there to get you started. So let's be off." The silver Mercedes had pulled out of the parking lot and merged into traffic. The bus with its cargo of confused and even a bit apprehensive scientists and technicians was not far behind. They eventually turned onto I- 4 heading east.

"Hey Lainie." Kevin Ryan called out from his seat next to his wife, "Are we going to Disney World?" That triggered a round of laughter. Lainie smiled, trust Kev to defuse the tension with a bit of humor. They turned off at the County Line Road exit and headed south. They drove past the enormous facility and turned left, that took them around and behind the Public supermarket distribution center.

They pulled up in front of an industrial building and found that Martha Rodgers was waiting there, If you will follow me, please." She led them into a lobby and then into a conference room. A large conference table dominated the room, and a sideboard had been setup on one wall ladened with trays of bagels, pastries, fresh fruit and various beverages.

Another individual was seated at the head of the table. "Everyone please find some refreshments and be seated, we have a lot to do and precious little time to do it."

As soon as everyone was seated, Martha spoke. "Thank you everyone for being here. This facility is a company named Antares Analytical Solutions. Our purpose in bringing you here today is to offer you employment with that organization. Antares is ultimately owned by Richard Castle, but it would take a lot of work to figure that out. The gentleman at the head of the table is Brian Neeley, who will be acting as the HR manager for the organization. Now I must leave you and go on to my my next task. You can ask him any questions you have. With that, she turned and left the room.

"The first order of business, is that each of you must decide whether you wish to accept the offer. In the event of a situation such as we face, Rick very much wanted to keep the team together. We hope you will all accept. But, before you decide I would like to take you on a short tour." He rose and walked out of the conference room. To the left of the conference room was a door with a hand print reader. Brian placed his hand on the reader, and the door clicked open. He waved them through and smiled at the collective gasp that erupted as they all realized what they were seeing.  
"It's just like our lab at Orion!" And with some minor differences in details it was essentially a clone of the Orion lab. Same equipment, same capability; lacking only the human capital, the incomparable team that Rick, Vienna and Lainie had labored so tirelessly to assemble.

They returned to the conference room, still a bit stunned by what they had seen. "As I said before, we must ask you to make a decision. Accept the offer, roll up your sleeves and get to work, or reject the offer and I will arrange transportation back to where you left your cars. Your pay and benefits will continue without interruption. I will pass around a stack of offer letters. If you wish to proceed take a letter, print your name and sign and return to me. Dr. Parish, you should be expecting a shipment of material from Rocky Flats no later than Wednesday. I believe you are already aware of what needs to be done,"

Brian handed Lainie a simple flip phone. "This phone is already programmed with my number. If you need me please use this phone and not your personal cell. Now I believe you have a lab to commission, and I will get out of your hair." He scanned through the stack of signed offers. They were all signed.

 **Tampa Orion Institute Monday Morning October 29**

Javier's phone chimed and he glanced down at the text message that had just popped up on his screen. The front gate was alerting him. "They're here."

"All right then, let's go." Vienna ordered, as calmly as if she was suggesting that they go to Starbuck's for a cappuccino. George and Javier followed, both totally confident in her ability to snatch victory from the looming jaws of defeat.

They rode the elevator down to the first floor and out through the lobby, footsteps echoing in the hollow emptiness of the space. As they exited the building, Vienna nodded to Javier, who sent the message, "Let them in."

The gate guard opened the gate and the armada streamed through. Three long wheelbase vans stuffed with men led the procession, followed by six large trucks. then there were four Hillsborough county Sheriff Department cruisers. Bringing up the rear, was a Lincoln Town Car. The procession moved slowly toward the Admin building parking lot, because Javier had one of his security guys walking in front of each vehicle and not so subtly herding them into the Admin buildings parking lot. In fact, the roads past the admin Building were blocked with concrete barriers. The town car pulled up and stopped near where Vienna, George and Javier were waiting. The rear doors opened and two men, dressed in suits, stepped out and strode toward the main entrance. One of the two men was unknown to her, probably the Russian's attorney, judging by the unprintable epithet George muttered just loud enough for her to hear. The second man was Joshua Davidson. District Attorney Joshua Davidson with his Armani suit (how does a DA afford $2000 dollar suits anyway), too perfect hair, fake tan and python-skin shoes that probably cost more than half the shoes in her closet put together. A smarmy grin that somehow combined a supreme sense of self importance with absolute contempt for every other person on the planet almost incited her to violence.

He marched up to her, heedless of her personal space and any acceptable standard for how a public servant should comport themselves. He towered over her by a good twelve inches, but she yielded not one millimeter. "Move out of my way Vienna and open the door so these gentlemen…"  
She met his gaze, "First it's Mrs. Takayoshi to reptilian slime balls like you, and I don't see any gentlemen within spitting distance except George and Javier.

District attorney Joshua David made the greatest mistake of his life. "Out of the way bitch," he snarled, grasping her bicep with a powerful grip. Vienna stood as still as a basilisk, but her voice cut through the pregnant silence that followed the DA's move.

"Davidson, did you know that Orion just patented the most advanced arm and hand prostheses in history?"

"And why exactly should I care?"

"Because if you don't get your hand off me, you're going to need one."

At that moment, DA Davidson made the second greatest mistake of his life. He doubled down and shoved Vienna violently, sending her to the ground. The magnitude of his error was compounded by the fact that his behavior had found the one chink in her armor. Vienna was more than a little obsessive about respect. She had always had to scratch and claw for every inch. Her parent's were perfectionists who never let their daughter measure up. Her older sister was constantly throwing her three degrees - two Phd's and MD - in Vienna's face. Constantly reminding her that while her own degrees were from Stanford and University of Chicago; Vienna's one PhD was from a backwoods institution like the University of South Florida which was only slightly more than a diploma mill.

Vienna also knew how much Rick had been ridiculed when he appointed her Chief Operating Officer at Orion. The patronizing sexism and outright harassment she had endured from male executives at other companies. There was no 'glass ceiling' at Orion, but they were surprisingly common in society at large, even still. DA Davidson unknowingly pushed the big red button in Vienna's psyche, triggering a near nuclear counterstrike. Everything went to hell in a wheelbarrow.

She had hardly touched the ground, when she rolled, pivoted and launched a spin kick that practically obliterated his kneecap. His expensive dental work went next when Javier's fist snapped his head back and he hit the ground with a meaty thud. The second attorney rashly decided on fight rather than flight. He latched on to Vienna from behind, receiving an elbow in the face, a heeled stomp to the top of the foot and a hip toss that left the traitor gasping painfully on the pavement beside his cohort.

All of Javier's security troops were armed with AR-15 carbines and they had been instructed to avoid any threatening or antagonizing moves, but to meet force with force. DA Davidson had hardly completed his unplanned journey to the ground, when three of the 'workers' who had come along to loot the Institute produced handguns.

Javier had twenty guys nearby and the rattle of twenty rounds being chambered and twenty safeties flicked from safe to fire was impossibly loud. The interlopers suddenly found themselves staring down the muzzles of twenty automatic rifles. A massacre trembled on the brink, only one finger twitch away. Sheriff Rainey earned his pay (and the certainty of re-election) that morning, bounding from his squad car and standing tall in the no mans land between the antagonists. "Stand down now," he bellowed. "Or I'll arrest every blasted one of you."

Javier motioned for the Orion security team to stand down and they safed and slung their carbines, but remained in position. The deputies that had accompanied the Sheriff to the scene, now had the visitors covered and weapons were laid down with alacrity.

Sheriff Rainey walked over to Vienna. "Damn, Vienna, What's going on here?

"These people," she indicated with a broad sweep of her arm "Are trespassing on my property. DA Davidson assaulted me and his associates drew weapons. My security people felt that my life was threatened and prepared to defend me and themselves."

Davidson levered himself up on one arm, "I have a court order to seize documents. I ordered the b.., Ms. Takayoshi to open the door and she refused."

"Vienna, if you are refusing to comply…"

George stepped forward, "Sheriff, here is the original order." He handed over the paper.

"Davidson, this order says that Vienna has to turn over documents , it says nothing about searching the premises. Do you have a search warrant?" When the DA remained silent , the Sheriff continued "I'll take that as a no. I believe you have seriously overstepped your authority. Not to mention the fact that you assaulted Mrs. Takayoshi."

"She threatened me," the DA protested. "It's her word against mine."

Vienna grinned a truly delighted grin. "I knew buying the TV station would pay off." She pointed over the DA's shoulder to a vehicle, previously unnoticed, that was mostly concealed by shrubbery. A Channel 11 News van. She casually lifted the collar of her shirt revealing a wireless remote microphone.

"Smile Mr. DA Davidson, you're on candid camera."


	80. Chapter 80

**Red Wolf District Hospital Monday Noon October 31**

Noon brought a change in physician, as Alexis left to grab some food and a nap. Kayla arrived to take over. Kate's vitals remained in acceptable ranges, but her fever continued to trend upward.

"You look terrible," Kayla addressed Rick. Why don't you try to get some sleep."

Rick shook his head, " I'll sleep when I know Kate's going to be okay."

Kayla shrugged. There was no reasoning with Rick where Kate was concerned. "You two seemed to have ironed out your differences." She observed as she settled herself in the chair.

"I think so," Rick agreed. "But there's still some things that bother me about the whole Alexyev thing."

"Like what?" Kayla sat up and leaned forward. intrigued by Rick's statement.

""All the evidence indicates that Kate was a deliberate selection, and not just a target of opportunity. so, why Kate? She's not a celebrity. So could she have stepped on someone's toes enough that they would go to so much effort to embarrass her."

"Seems a bit far fetched," Kayla agreed. "That brings up something I've wondered about. Why the two organisms? If the goal was to embarrass her, the virus took care of that pretty well. So what was the purpose of the malaria?

"Dayum, Kayla, I think you're on to something. If you were going to concoct a potion, why would you include Plasmodium falciparum as an ingredient?''

Kayla pondered for a moment, not at all pleased with the conclusion her mind was forcing her to entertain. "I would put it in if I wanted to kill the victim." She fought down a wave of nausea. "This whole mess was not just some pervert wacko getting his jollies, it was an attempted murder."

"And almost succeeded," Rick agreed. "What was the motive?"

"What was the motive for…?" Kate asked sleepily from her bed.

"Kate, it can wait till your feeling better."

"I may feel like death warmed over" she didn't notice both Rick and Kayla cringe. "But that doesn't mean you can talk around me like I'm not here."

Kayla and Rick traded glances. "You sure you two are not related? That stubborn gene keeps popping up." Kayla suggested.

"Not yet," they both replied.

"So about the motive thing," Kate reminded them.

"Uh, we were wondering what motive Alexyev or someone had for exposing you to a potentially lethal strain of malaria."

"Oh." She closed her eyes and didn't speak again for a few minutes, as if the effort was too great. Kayla stepped to the side of the bed and checked Kate's temperature, 103.9, an increase of more than a degree since the last check. This might be it, the spike they had been dreading. Kaylah reached out and pressed the nurse call button.

"Moira, would you please grab a 100ml bag of Ofirmev out of the dispensary. Run it down to Ms. Beckett's room Stat."

The head nurse was not one to waste time in idle chit chat. "On the way," was her only response. "What's going on Kayla?" Rick asked.

"I think this may be the spike, so I'm going to try to tamp it down. Kate can't have any Ibuprofen again for two more hours, so I'm going to give her an anti-pyretic we haven't tried yet."

Moira bustled in with a small IV bag and an administration set. She immediately started connecting it to Kate's IV Line. "What rate , Doctor?"

"Set it for fifteen minute infusion, we don't want to slam it all in at once."

"All set Doctor, anything else?"

"No Moira, thanks."

Kate's eyes fluttered open. "Feel…crap."

"I know sweetheart," Rick soothed, brushing the sweat-dampened curls back from her face and bathed her forehead with cool water. "I know." He offered her a drink of electrolyte solution and held the straw where she could reach it easily. A couple of swallows seemed to revive her a bit. "The motive thing,,," She took another long pull of the drink before continuing. "Five reasons for murder. Greed, Jealousy, Revenge, Get rid of an obstacle or cover up another crime."

"Okay," Rick prompted. Maybe this discussion will keep her mind off how bad she feels."Alexyev was quite wealthy, so greed was probably not the motive."

"Jealousy doesn't seem to be a likely factor either." Kayla responded, getting into the discussion, physicians are investigators too, in a sense. "You two had only known each other for a couple of weeks before the incident, and neither of you had ever met Alexyev.. Right?"

Rick and Kate both nodded agreement

"Revenge seems a bit of a stretch, too." Rick said thoughtfully. If it's me they're after, the Golf course incident was too close to the hotel scene, so it would have to be something from when I was still in the Corps."

" Bandar Deylam?" Kate sounded a bit gravelly, prompting Rick to offer her some more drink.

" "Yeah, I could imagine that whoever was behind that op was angry enough to be out for revenge, but that was fifteen years ago, I've been trying to fly under the radar since then."

"Did Alexyev plan the Bandar Deylam operation?" Kayla wondered.

"No, he would have been too young."Rick replied. Alexyev is not an operator or the ultimate decision maker. He's a tool, just like Senator Bracken."

"The next motive is to remove an obstacle." Kayla pointed out, "But who was the obstacle and why?"

"Not me." Kate groaned, "Orion."

"I think Kate's correct, the obstacle is Orion, which makes this whole mess an elaborate play to take Orion and its technology off the board, put me in a situation where I couldn't stop them." Rick reasoned."

"But that doesn't explain why Alexyev went after Kate, and it doesn't explain why they would risk the life of a prominent scientist." Kayla was starting to get a headache trying to keep up with the twists in this bizarre tale.

"Lets jump to the last motive," Rick suggested. "Covering up something."

"But why?"

"Just work with me here for a minute," Rick suggested. "I think it's kind of coming together. Kate, you said that Alexyev had 'fiendish devices' that he was going to use on you. Right?"

Kate nodded.

"How was he transporting these devices, in a paper bag, in a toolbox?

"He had special fitted leather cases." Kate answered with a shiver.

"That matches what the concierge at the hotel told us. He'd done this before, but none of his victims ever pressed charges. Maybe if he used that virus thing on them, they thought they had agreed to it. That it was consensual."

"I'm following you so far, I think." Kayla made a hand motion for him to continue.  
"Now let's go to the boss, the man behind the curtain, we'll call him Mr.X. He's undoubtedly spent billions on developing the psychophages." He was interrupted by a choking sound from Kayla.

"Psychophages? seriously?"

"You got a better name for them?"

"No, go on."

"He finds out that Alexyev, has been using it to further his career as a sexual predator, putting Mr.X's entire plan at risk. He also wants to cripple Orion and get revenge on me. He sends Mr. Pretty Boy after Kate, knowing that he will probably use the psychophages. And hoping that in the aftermath I would go after Alexyev."

"Would you have …" Kate turned to Rick.

"Yes."

"How would Alexyev get access to the psychophages?" Kayla puzzled.

Rick gave a grim chuckle. "I suspect he probably developed them, as well as the Lassa strain from the golf course. He was a world-class microbiologist, as well as being a dirt-bag."

"That raises an ugly possibility," Kayla gulped. "If Mr.X was willing to sacrifice Alexyev to plug a potential leak, that means Mr.X already has all the bad bugs he thinks he needs for his master plan."

"Based on what we've been discussing then, the malaria was not part of the original plan. It was an attempt by Alexyev to cover his tracks, so his boss wouldn't find out that he had been using the viruses for his own purposes." Rick summed up.

Alexis entered the room, brushing snow from her jacket. "Wow, it's a real blizzard out there." She paused recognizing the shocked expression of the other people in the room. "What?"

"Blizzard?" Rick responded with a hint of disbelief.

"Okay, maybe blizzard is a little bit of an exaggeration, but it is snowing and the wind is blowing really hard." She admitted. Then she grasped the significance of the woebegone looks she was getting. "The plane's not here yet? Kate doesn't have her meds yet?"

Charlie rushed in, phone in hand. "The storm moved faster than we expected. The pilot says he can't land."

Rick reacted quickly, "Ask him if they have a parachute onboard."

"Yes." Charlie answered after a quick verbal exchange with the pilot.

"Tell them to cut the pilot chute off the parachute and attach the pilot to the package with the meds. If they've got any 100mph duck tape, that'll work great."

Five long minutes passed, punctuated every minute or so by the dull roar of turboprops as the RCAF twin Otter circled back over the town.

"They're ready." Charlie relayed. "But, the pilot says he can't see the runway."

"We need some flares."

"Seth, may have some in his truck." Alexis supplied.

"Is Seth here?"

"He should be here any minute now," Alexis blushed "We kinda had a coffee date."

#####

Seth and Alexis peered into the driven snow, actually, more like ice crystals that stung any exposed skin. They had placed a line of flares down the center of the airstrip at hundred foot intervals, only the first two of which were visible through the snow. They placed the last three flares in an arrowhead pattern to indicate the initial point for the Otter's drop run.

The roar of engines grabbed their attention. "They've dropped smokejumpers and para rescue jumpers lots of times." Seth assured her, "They know what they are doing."

"I hope so." Alexis shivered in the minus twenty windchill. Seth instinctively slipped an arm around her shoulders, and since she didn't react, decided to leave it there.

"They'll drop a streamer first." He informed her. "We need to spot it and tell the pilot how far off the centerline to make his run so the package doesn't fall into the river."

"Okay, how fast are they going."  
"The Otter can fly really slow, probably about 60 knots"

The radio in the hand not occupied by a shivering red head, crackled. "Streamer away."

"There it is," Alexis pointed. "About the third flare and twenty meters to the right." The bright orange streamer collapsed about three meters shy of the river.

"Good eyes Seth praised and keyed his radio. "RCAF 3C41214, you're dead-on for distance, offset twenty-five meters to the left of center."

"Roger, Yukon, we're coming around for another run. This one is for the win."

The roar of twin turbos built to a crescendo and a darker shape flashed past. The small pilot chute popped open almost directly overhead and two pairs of anxious eyeballs tracked it as it descended. Seth and Alexis were in Seth's truck racing down the landing strip. " 3C41214, you put it right in the ten ring. Good job."

"Roger that Yukon, glad to help."

The medications had been packed in a triple wall corrugated box about a foot square, and wrapped with enough fiberglass reinforced heavy duty strapping tape to withstand a nuclear detonation. From the outside at least, the box seemed to be in remarkably good shape considering its unconventional delivery.

Seth took one hand off the wheel just long enough to slip a Spyderco Para Military folding knife out of it's holster and pass it to Alexis.  
At her quizzical look, he suggested "You know you want to check and see if everything survived."

"Right," she acknowledged and applied the razor-sharp blade to the tape. She popped open the two flaps that appeared to be the top and peered inside. The vials and bottles were packed in foam and everything looked to be intact. "Looks good. Seth, I'm sor….."

"I know, you need to get back to the hospital and check on Ms. Beckett. Why don't you give me a call tonight if you can spare the time and I'll grab some take out at Gertie's?"

"Good plan." He really was a sweet guy. He braked to a halt at the main entrance to the hospital. Before she hopped out of the truck, she impulsively leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

When Alexis strode into Kate's room, she could almost feel the release of tension at the sight of the intact package. "Here we go, everything looks like it made the trip." She set the box on Kate's rolling table and started removing the contents. Three plastic screw cap bottles and two vials containing powder that would need to be reconstituted with normal sterile water prior to use.

"How about we hold off on the anti-virals till tomorrow." Kayla suggested. "I think it would be easier on Kate if we don't overload her system."

"I agree, we've probably got a few days on the virus before she has another attack," Alexis stated as she began to count out the proper dosage of the antimalarials.

"All right Kate, bottoms up." Alexis passed Kate a paper cup holding pills and then supplied a cup of water to wash them down.

 **Tampa Orion Institute Monday Afternoon October 31**

Vienna met Serena Kaye in the lobby of the Orion admin building and led her to a nearby conference room. Kathy soon arrived with a tray sporting a fine bone china tea service. Vienna had always steadfastly refused to even entertain the notion of an executive assistant. But, after several weeks with Kathy, she was definitely starting to get used to it.

"I know it's a bit early Ms. Kaye, but may I offer you some tea?"

"First, it's Serena, and I would love some."

Vienna poured the beverage into the delicate cups, a tantalizing fragrance filling the room. "Vienna, may I call you Vienna?"

Vienna nodded her acceptance and delicately sipped from her cup in concert with her guest.

"This is wonderful," Serena enthused, "What is it?"

"An estate grown organic Assam. Rick found it years ago."

Serena set her cup down gently and visibly squared her shoulders, ready for whatever she might face. "Vienna, what do you need from me?"

For the next hour, Vienna painstakingly laid out the timeline and milestones of the attempted takeover of the Institute. Serena listened, not verbalizing anything, but making occasional notes on a legal pad that she extracted from the slim leather portfolio that she carried. When Vienna finished her narrative, Serena didn't react , other than tapping her pen against the pad. Finally, she spoke,. "Vienna, this sounds like just another corporate hostile takeover story. Not really something that I would want to come out of retirement for. Plus, I'm sure you already have reporters that can cover this story."

"Serena, I'm not suggesting that you report on the narrative of this takeover attempt. I want you to investigate Orion. From the ground up, inside and out. find out what it is and what it does. The kind of investigative reporting that put all those Pulitzers on your mantle. When you finish, I want the world, the nation and the local area to know exactly what they have and exactly what they stand to lose."

"What is it about Orion that makes it worth the effort, why will the majority of people even care?"

Gotcha! Vienna slid a plastic binder across the conference table. "I'm going to share with you just one line of business that's going to be introduced to the market on New Years Day.

Serena glanced down at the binder and the name printed across the front 'NanoBot.', hmmm. She flipped the cover and started reading. She suddenly looked up, eyes wide with shock. "This is for real, you can really do this?"

"Yes, that and a lot more." Vienna replied. "We will give you access to 90% of the products ready for market and those that are still in the development pipeline." Vienna slid another binder across the table. This one was labeled 'Economic Impact'. "This is a pro forma economic impact analysis that my CFO put together. I'm sure you'll want to have a more in-depth analysis done, but it will give you a rough idea."

"So you are estimating that every job at Orion supports seventy jobs outside the organization?" Vienna nodded confidently. "You have around 600 people working - worked -here, which if I do the math means forty-two thousand jobs."

"That's just first tier jobs. The actual number is probably three times that."

"Vienna, this is astounding, why isn't your government stepping in to prevent this takeover?"

"That's a fair question. For a variety of reasons, we don't advertise a lot, and we keep projects tightly compartmentalized. The government doesn't really know much about what goes on here. We don't have, and never will have any government contracts, so they have little reason come in and poke around."

"Wow," Serena responded. "I think this has the makings of a heck of a story. But, you do realize I would have to be completely independent. No renumeration from Orion whatsoever."

"We don't expect you to do this pro bono."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I know at least six editors that would drool on themselves while making chimp noises in order to get a shot at this story. But, no handlers, no pressure no influence on your part, or the deal's off."

"I understand," Vienna replied, "just contact me when you're ready to start."

Serena rose and shook hands, but her eyes strayed back to the Nanobot folder. "You really can do it, you really can cure cancer?"

"Some cancers." Vienna replied. "You lost someone?"

"My mother, breast cancer."

 **Tampa FBI Field Office Monday Noon October 31**

Eating lunch by yourself was a drag, Hayley decided in a one-woman pity party. She liked to have someone to discuss the day's events, bounce ideas off of, plan the rest of the day with. Before everything blew up, it had most always been Kate. Lately, Javier more often than not. But Kate had gone rogue and disappeared, and Javi had his hands full at the institute. So it's just me and Edgar. He always takes my mind off things. She reached into her purse and pulled out a well-read paperback copy of The Short Stories of Edgar Allen Poe. Opening the book to The Purloined Letter, she started reading, taking occasional bites of her pasta salad.

When she reaches the climactic scene where Dupin, the amateur detective, describes how he found the missing letter, her hand freezes with a forkful of salad halfway from bowl to mouth. The fork fell from suddenly nerveless fingers, flinging pasta shrapnel across the surface of her desk. Uncaring, she stared ahead, repeating to herself; the police tore the apartment apart and didn't find it. It was there all along, he hid it in plain sight.

Omigod! Alexyev's body is still in the morgue. I'm such an idiot. It's there in plain sight. She bolted out of her seat so forcefully that her chair crashed into the wall behind her desk with a resounding thump. She tore down the corridor to the elevators, her heart hammering with the implications of her epiphany.

The morgue was empty as she charged past the autopsy bays. She paused to catch her breath and steel her nerves, before plunging into the large freezer where unidentified bodies were stored. All of the body bags were simply tagged as John or Jane doe, so there was no recourse other than to open every bag and look for the tell tale bullet wound in the upper right chest. By the time she had wrestled the eleventh bag out of the rack, she was starting to regret tackling this task alone. But, she didn't particularly want anyone else to know if her brainstorm died a miserable death. No pun intended.

On the fourteenth victim, she tugged the zipper down and immediately noticed that the cadaver was still clothed. That was against protocol, and her pulse quickened. Don't get excited girl, she admonished herself, could have been a mistake. Another tug on the zipper, and it became obvious that the cadaver was wearing a white dinner jacket and there was a neat hole, the diameter of a pencil, in the upper right chest.

 **Red Wolf District Hospital Monday Evening October 31**

Alexis was surprised to see Kate sitting up in her bed and Rick lying down beside her. He was asleep if the intermittent gentle snores were any indication. Smiling broadly she moved to the side of the bed and impulsively hugged her patient. "You're looking good Kate."

"I feel a ton better," Kate agreed "Still really tired, but I think the fever is gone."

"Well let's see about that." Alexis placed the digital thermometer in Kate's mouth and checked the display when it beeped. "100.2, excellent. Any chills or tremor?"

"No," Kate smiled back, "None of that."

Alexis shifted her gaze to Rick. "Finally gave it up, huh?"

"Yeah, he's been there every second until he knew I was going to be okay."

"He's a good man," Alexis observed . "Just don't hurt him again."

"I won't,"


	81. Chapter 81

**A/N I received two Guest Reviews that I would like to respond to.**

 **Guest 1 was very disrespectful and insulting. This individual had a problem with the idea that a DA would charge someone with murder without sufficient evidence. He/she stated that 'no DA in the world would charge someone' under the circumstances described in the story. I'm actually quite impressed that this person knows exactly what every prosecutor in the world would do in a given situation.**

 **As to whether a DA would prosecute a first degree murder charge without sufficient evidence - I give you two words - Trayvon Martin. (google it if you're not familiar with the case.) The DA clearly bowed to political pressure to charge George Zimmerman with first degree murder. Everyone knew from the beginning of the case that the state had no case.**

 **Guest 2 was the polar opposite. Very respectful and a pleasure to read their review. Their question had to do with how a patient would behave with a very high fever. I rechecked with my medical sources and they agreed that a person with a fever between 104 and 105 would be a very unhappy camper, but not necessarily unconscious. I wrote the scene with Kate, Rick and Kayla with the idea that Rick and Kayla were trying to take her mind off her misery, more than trying to carry on a really serious conversation. Kate was getting excellent supportive care and was in excellent physical condition, thus a 104 degree fever was not as serious as it might be otherwise.**

 **I had the flu when I was a kid and had a 104 degree fever. I felt like death warmed over but never was unconscious.**

 **Thanks for reading and reviewing. The Yukon arc is almost done and Kate and Rick will be returning to Florida soon.**

 **Red Wolf District Hospital Tuesday Morning November 1**

Charlie McDermitt strolled into Rick's room around 08:30. He was carrying a large cardboard box and wearing what could only be described as a self-satisfied grin. "Where's Kate?"

Rick looked up from his laptop. "She's down the hall grabbing a shower."

"She okay?"

"Yep, temp holding steady at 99 all night with no Ibuprofen. Hence the shower."

"You seen my new intern?" Charlie asked.

"She's making a coffee and breakfast run, should be back shortly. What you got there?"

"Present for you," Charlie grinned.

"The only present I'm looking for is to go home," Rick couldn't suppress a little, okay more than a little, grumpiness. He was always a little hyper and all the lounging around was slowly driving him insane. Even Kate's presence hadn't helped much. She was almost as hyper as he was.

Charlie's grin got wider, "Then consider this your ticket home, my friend." He plunked the box down on the foot of Rick's bed. He stood back chuckling as Rick tore into the packaging like a manic four year old on Christmas morning.

"Boots?" Rick looked puzzled as held up the contents of the carton. "Or is it a walking cast?"

"It's actually a combination of the two. It's designed to support most of your weight on your calf muscles and take it off of your feet. That way, you can walk a little without messing up the skin grafts on your feet."

Rick examined the objects with a new perspective, "I've never seen anything like this before."

"That's because this is the only one, I guess you'd say it's a prototype."

"Did you invent this?"

"Yep, our maintenance guy and me. Why don't you give it a try?"

"Let's do it." He slipped the boots on and Charlie showed him how to fasten the Velcro straps. He eased himself off the bed and gingerly put his weight on the appliance. "This is quite comfortable."

"Try taking a few steps, " Charlie suggested.

Rick tried a few steps, but he was a bit wobbly after being in bed for several days. "It'll work once I get used to walking again."

"Maybe try crutches for a couple of days."

"Ugh. I hate crutches. But, you're probably right. I don't want to do a face plant in the hallway."

At that moment, Kate walked in, wearing pajamas and a robe, while fluffing her hair with a towel. "Charlie." She acknowledged.

""Hi, Kate, how are you doing?"

"Good, thanks." she turned to Rick. "What are you doing up?"

"I'm trying out Charlie's magic boots. We may be able to go home this week."

"Wow, that'd be amazing. It'll be hard to see everyone after what happened, but I miss them."

Alexis walked in as Charlie was leaving. "I need to get a pretreatment blood sample, and then we'll see if we can kick some psychophage butt." Kate climbed into bed and lay back. Alexis attached a blood collection tube to Kate's pick Line . When the tube was full, she disconnected it and stated. I'm going to run this down to the lab. I'll be back in a few minutes with the injections."

Fifteen minutes later, Alexis was back with three loaded syringes. "The virus capsules are still there. So no reason to hold back. You ready?" Kate nodded. Alexis attached the syringe to the injection port on the pick line and pushed the plunger, slowly but steadily. "That's the HIB vaccine." She attached the next syringe and carefully injected it's contents. "That's the gamma globulin. She administered the third syringe in the same manner, "Last but not least, that was the Interferon. We'll give these about eight hours to work and check again. Then we'll decide whether to give you another round."

"I sure hope this works," Kate said.

 **Tampa Antares Analytics Tuesday Morning November 1**

Commissioning a piece of laboratory equipment is no trivial task. First, the installation and basic operation of the device and its installation must be verified against the manufacturer's specifications. Utilities such as electrical power, cooling water and compressed air must be verified. Environmental conditions such as temperature and humidity in the lab where the equipment is installed must be adequate and reliable. All gauges, sensors and controls must be calibrated against internationally recognized standards.

Once the fist step is completed and any discrepancies resolved, the operation of the device must be verified against known standards. The accuracy of the device across its full range is compared to the required range of operation.

Finally, the ability of the device to give consistent results when the same test is repeated many times must be evaluated.

Lainie Parrish had been through the process many times during her career, and she still hated it. It could be mind-numbingly boring, but the critical nature of the testing to be carried out in the lab brooked no shortcuts. Life or death decisions would be taken based on the data she supplied. The very course of history possibly changed based on a few numbers passed to one of the institute's scientists or engineers.

On the wall just outside her office, she had hung a large whiteboard. each piece of equipment was listed on the board, along with its status.

She stood contemplating the board, assuring herself that the commissioning was moving ahead, but also reviewing the priorities she had assigned. Bomb casings from the terrorist weapons captured during the Mall incident were due to arrive momentarily from Rocky Flats where the fissionable material had been removed and reprocessed. If she and her team could determine where the devices had been stored, then perhaps additional weapons might be found.

Senior Scientist Kevin Ryan walked over to where his boss stood. "The Mass spec and thermoluminescence analyzer should be finished by lunch." He stated confidently. "That should give us everything we need to do the cylinders when they arrive."

'Good work. Kev, I want a full-court press on those things when they arrive. Everything else on the back burner until we're done."

"Got it, boss."

 **Tampa FBI Field Office Tuesday Morning November 1**

"The chief medical examiner gave Hayley a look that despite its silence, still shouted 'You better be right on this one.' He stood rigidly behind the autopsy table as his assistants lifted the body bag Hayley had discovered onto the table and slid the cadaver out.

Hayley and Special Agent in Charge Montgomery stood to the side, observing. First, a sample was taken for DNA and one of the ME's assistants left to carry the sample upstairs to the lab. The ME then began to remove the clothing, placing each piece in a labeled plastic bag for later examination. When the body was rolled over, Hayley was surprised to discover there was no exit wound.  
When all the clothing had been removed, one of the assistants rolled over a portable X-ray machine. and positioned it over the alleged bullet entrance wound. The image popped up on the monitor at the head of the table, and there was a collective sigh. The x-ray image did not show a bullet. "That's strange," Roy muttered. "How do you get an entrance wound, no exit wound and no bullet?"

"I have an idea, " Hayley ventured "We'll know when he opens the chest."

"I'm going to make the Y incision now", the ME stated. "Now that's interesting." The right side of the chest, right lung and the right side of the heart was literally shredded as if someone had poked the barrel of a shotgun through the chest wall before triggering a blast. "This injury would be instantly fatal, he never knew what hit him."

"What was your theory, Hayley?" Roy queried.

"Frangible bullet." she replied. "It would explode after penetrating a short distance. There should be some fragments. We need to collect as much as we can."

"This will take a while." The ME noted.  
"Hayley, why don't you get started on examining the physical evidence. I need to give the D.A. a call."

"Yes sir," Hayley responded, gathering up the evidence bags. She walked next door to the CSU lab. Maria, her brother's girl friend was on-duty. "Hi Hayley", the girl met her with a smile. "Come down to chill with the troops."

Hayley plopped her bundle of evidence bags on the stainless steel worktable. "Can you work these up?"

"Sure, anything special to look out for?"

"No, just anything unusual."

"Okay, I'll let you know if I find anything."

 **Red Wolf District Hospital Tuesday Evening November 1**

Rick and Kate were taking a quick walk, trying out Rick's new footwear. At 8:00, Alexis met them in the corridor on their third lap. Kate immediately noticed that she was wearing designer jeans and a thick cowl neck sweater. Several steps above the scrubs she normally wore in the hospital. "Hot date?" Kate teased.

Alexis blushed and stuttered "Uh…just coffee."

"He's cute." Kate declared.

Alexis' cheeks had almost achieved the hue of her hair. "I suppose. I haven't really noticed."

"Apparently Kate has." Rick muttered.

Kate slapped him lightly on the arm. "Jealousy isn't attractive,Rick."

"I need to get a followup blood sample." Alexis interjected, glad to not be the center of attention. They returned to Rick and Kate's room and Alexis attached the collection tube. "I'll go run the test and be back in a few."

 **Tampa FBI Field Office Tuesday Evening November 1**

"Shipton." Hayley answered her phone, her voice betraying her weariness. She was trying to trace the movements of the golf course perps and discover how they had entered the country. It was proving to be devilishly difficult. These mutts were absolute ghosts. No response so she laid the phone back down on her desktop and massaged her temples with her thumbs. Maybe it's time to call it a night. Dang there's the dratted phone again.

"Shipton."Her tone a bit more acerbic this time. She held the phone away so she could see the screen. She hardly knew whether to giggle or groan because she had been trying to carry on a conversation with an incoming text message. It is time to call it a night. Might as well read the message though.

" _ **Found Something.**_ '

Maria wouldn't text if it wasn't something significant, so much for sleep. She retrieved her phone and tapped out:

 _ **On my way**_

"Whatcha got girl?" Hayley asked Maria, entering the lab and snapping on a pair of gloves in anticipation.

"This," the younger woman nudged a small black cylindrical object with a gloved finger. This stuff is all the subject's personal effects. Nothing really interesting there, except for this little guy." She nudged the object again,

"May I take a look?"

"Sure, I already checked for fingerprints and DNA." Maria informed her.

Hayley picked the object up and scrutinized it carefully. The object was not unlike a miniature flashlight, cylindrical in cross-section, about three inches long and a half inch in diameter. It was finished in a matte black that closely resembled the finish on the slide of her SIG. Too heavy-feeling in the hand to be plastic, it must be some type of metal. Maybe aluminum.? A small button was inset near one end and one flat face had a small hole, approximately one millimeter in diameter. "I've never seen anything like this, any ideas?"

"It's an injector." Maria responded. "They're usually plastic, disposable. This one's metal, obviously intended to be reusable."

"Why would someone want a reusable injector?" Hayley puzzled.

"For normal medical use, they wouldn't, too much risk of cross contamination. In fact, I found some blood on the needle."

"DNA?"

"I sent it off, should have results tomorrow. But, the blood is Type A negative. That matches Agent Beckett. Alexyev is Type O positive, so he wasn't using it himself to shoot up heroin or anything."

"No, the creep wasn't happy giving Kate some crazy virus, he had to inject her with God knows what." Hayley scoffed. "Do you have any idea what was in it?"

"I know it wasn't anything we normally test in a box screen. I also tested for ricin and botulism. Both were negative."

"Pack it up," Hayley directed. "I'll see if we can get Orion to look it over. I'll come by and get it when they're ready."

I thought Orion was closed. I mean I saw on the news…"

"I'm sure they're still in business in some form. I'll find out." Hayley promised.

On her way back to her office, she sent her boss a text with the results so far. By morning, they should have a positive ID on the body. Then maybe they could end this charade.

 **Red Wolf District Hospital Tuesday Evening November 1**

Alexis' smile when she returned was answer enough. There was no sign of falpciparum parasites and no intact polysaccharide capsules in the blood sample. Kate raised her hands to her face and whispered "Thank God." Rick's exuberant fist pump almost tumbled him off his bed.

"I talked it over with Kayla and Charlie, and we recommend that we repeat the treatment. Kate tolerated round 1 very well. So, we don't want to stop one dose too soon." Alexis paused for a response.

"Let's do it," Kate replied, with a quick glance at Rick who gave her his 'I _t's your decision and I'll support whatever you decide_.' nod."

"Okay, we'll do it just like before. Anti-malarials tonight, and antivirals tomorrow. I'll have Moira bring your pills. I'm going to call it a day." Alexis paused at the door "Oh, I almost forgot another tiny bit of good news" She said with a mischievous grin. "If nothing happens, we can discharge you both Friday morning."

After Alexis left, Kate turned to Rick, "Can we go home?"

"I think it's time," Rick agreed. "I'm ready to fight the murder charge. I'll contact Vienna tomorrow and we'll put a plan together.


	82. Chapter 82

**Tampa FBI Field Office Wednesday Morning November 2**

Hayley was just leaving Starbuck's with her usual caramel macchiato when her phone chimed. Crap, a call from her boss at 6:00 AM was probably not good news. "Shipton."

"Agent Shipton," Roy got right to the point. "How soon can you meet me in my office?"

"Ten minutes, Sir. I was already on my way."

"Sit down, Agent Shipton." Roy directed as Hayley strode into his office.

"What's going on Sir?"

"I talked to the DA last night. He's not going to drop the charges against Rick Castle."

"Even after we found the body? Is this guy nuts?"

"That, or something more nefarious." Roy observed. "I want you to do a little digging, see if you can find an alternative explanation than simple stupidity."

"Yes sir."

Roy handed her a file folder. "You might want to look at this also."

"What is it?"

"It's the preliminary report on the container ship explosion."

Hayley accepted the folder and scanned it quickly. Halfway through, her eyes went wide and she glanced up to meet Roy's gaze. "This is….uh, unbelievable. Anti-tank missiles, mortars, machine guns. They trying to start their own army or something?"

"Seems like it."

"Sir, why are you showing me this, I'm not working the case….am I?" Hayley's face betrayed her confusion and a bit of trepidation.

"No you're not, it's being handled by the Miami office. But I was just thinking how fortunate it is that a ship carrying enough weapons to equip an infantry battalion, a ship that had already cleared customs, just happens to suffer an explosion on the foredeck that attracts the attention of law enforcement. Do you have any thoughts on the subject, Agent Shipton?"

"Uh…No sir, I don't have any ideas."

"That's two unusual explosions in the last couple of weeks," Roy said with a skeptical glance. "Seems like too much coincidence to be coincidence."

"No idea, sir." Hayley insisted, but her mind was racing. Could this possibly have been a Valkyrie attack?

"All right, Agent Shipton, let me know when you have an ironclad identification on the Alexyev body, and we'll have another go at the DA."

 **Red Wolf District Hospital Wednesday Morning November 2**

Kate finished her morning walk, all twenty minutes of it. She could have walked further. Physically, her endurance was probably back to at least eighty percent of where she was when she pitched up at Rick's cabin, but she was cold. She was sure this was considered a balmy day in the Yukon, 25 degrees, little to no wind and bright sunshine. I guess my idea of balmy is more bikinis and mojitos instead of down parkas and hot buttered rum (it really was much better than it sounded).

Kate made the turn toward the hospital and reached the main entrance, just as her favorite redhead was leaving. "Rough morning?" Kate inquired, taking note of Alexis' drawn features and tired shuffle.

"Damn chainsaws." Alexis muttered. Four hours of surgery and I don't know whether we saved his leg or not." She wiped a stray tear away with the back of a mittened hand. "I thought I had seen it all. Kate it was the most horrid thing I've ever seen. I don't know if I was cut out for this."

Kate impulsively swept the girl into a hug. "Alexis, you're a wonderful doctor. I'm a living breathing example, you saved my life. Probably Rick's too. I'm also sure that you did everything possible to save the patient's leg."

Alexis sniffled, "I'm sorry to cry on you like this. I'm such a wimp."

"You're not a wimp, just a caring, compassionate human being; who also happens to be a brilliant doctor."

"Thanks Kate, I really needed a shoulder to cry on."

"Any time. You know what you really need?" she paused as Alexis shook her head. "You need a girl's night out."

The younger woman straightened up and a wan smile graced her lips. "That sounds good actually. Kayla is off tonight as well and I'm sure she'd love to join."

"The more the merrier."

"I'll let Kayla know," Alexis offered, "We'll meet in the reception area at 7:00. As for now, I'm going to get some sleep."

 **Tampa Orion Institute Wednesday Morning November 2**

Vienna arrived at 07:00, fixed herself a cup of coffee and wished for the thousandth time that Rick was sitting across the desk. Not that she couldn't run the Institute without Rick, she could. If necessary (God forbid) she would continue to do so.

She fervently, almost painfully, wished he were there because it was just so damned much fun. She let her mind wander back , the geeky professorial type who ordered a vodka martini - shaken not stirred - that changed her life. Sixteen hour days in the lab collecting the data to publish before much larger and better funded teams from Brookhaven National Labs and nine other nations. The day they learned that their paper had been accepted for publication; and She, Akahiro and Rick drank so much sake in celebration that they had hangovers for three days. The day she received her Doctorate and Akahiro and Rick tried to be all macho and stoic but still had to blot away a tear or two.

The night they solved the eddy-current problem in the anti-gravity field coils and Valkyrie was born. The day she negotiated Orion's first licensing agreement and the first time the Institute's monthly revenue exceeded one million dollars.

How she learned to tolerate and then to rely upon Rick's curious alloy of childlike wonder and his insatiable drive to discover truth.

Her computer chimed, alerting her that someone wished to establish a Face-Time session. She touched the screen to accept the invitation, her emotions exploded like a fourth of July fireworks show. "Rick?" Oh God, Rick! Where are you? Are you okay? You're in a hospital! I'm going to kill you! She finally came up for air, giving Rick a fleeting opportunity to speak.

"Whoa there Lady, I'll answer your questions. Yes, I'm in a hospital, but I'm good. The doc says I'll be released Friday. I'm not going to give my location on an unsecured connection. I don't want to have any back-blast for the people who've helped me. A lot of the help I received wasn't strictly legal…."

"I understand," Vienna wiped a stray tear, "But you've had us so worried. It's been bad. really bad,"

"Yeah, I saw you kick the DA's ass on TV. That was epic." he chuckled as Vienna dropped her eyes, slightly embarrassed. "How did you get Channel 11 to be there anyway?"

"Simple, I just told them to be there."

Rick's eye brows twitched upward. "Since when do they take orders from you?"

"Since I own it."

"You own it? Sounds like an interesting story there."

"That's what you get for disappearing on us. Speaking of disappearing, Kate disappeared the week after the incident and no one has heard from her since. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

"I don't know about her disappearance, but I know where she is now." Rick replied

"Hey ,Vienna."

Vienna startled slightly when Kate's face appeared on the screen. "Kate!" You're with Rick?"

" Yeah, it's been a long couple of weeks. But things are definitely on the mend."

"I want to apologize for treating you so harshly," Vienna offered, "Lainie found that you were the victim of a bio-weapon attack that caused your bizarre behavior."

"I know, I had another episode after I found Rick. I think that was what convinced him to take me back. I understand why you reacted that way, the evidence against me was pretty overwhelming."

"Still…"

"It's good Vienna," Kate insisted, "No hard feelings. I want us to be friends and I'm going to need all the help I can get keeping Rick straight."

"You have no idea." Vienna returned with a smirk, "Let's schedule a girl's night when you get back and get started on that friend thing."

"Sound's like a plan. Here's Rick again.."

"So what's going on with the lawsuit and the murder charge? I know they're still open but that's about all." Rick asked.

Vienna got one of those looks that was scary even though it was in no way directed at him. "DA Davidson has gone completely off into la la land. You'd think he would be happy that his buddy got his 5 tons of documents, and be satisfied.…. but not our DA. No sir, not ours. Just a short time before you called, I got a call from a contact at the DA's office."

"I'm guessing it wasn't happy news." Kate guessed.  
"Note to self," Vienna responded. "Kate Beckett is a master of understatement."

Both women laughed. Rick was happy to see their banter. His life would be a much happier proposition if the two most important people in his life were friends. "So what was the news?"

"Davidson is working with Judge Raglan to get a new court order specifically allowing the Russians access to the buildings at the Institute."

"Bastard." Rick and Kate snarled in unison.

"What is he doing? This is a civil case, a DA has no standing in a civil case." Rick protested.

"Of course not, Roy has Hayley looking into it. Maybe she'll be able to dig up something that'll make sense of this mess." Vienna's countenance took on a rather severe expression. "Now what's with hijacking my Valkyrie and blowing up a ship in Miami? You scared the crap out of Jessica and Zach."

"I can categorically state that I did not blow up a ship in Miami or hijack a Valkyrie."

Vienna bestowed a skeptical glare until Kate volunteered "No, he made me do it."

"I knew it!" Vienna slapped her palm on her desktop. "Rick Castle, don't you dare corrupt this poor innocent child," sharing a devilish grin with Kate.

Rick moaned theatrically, "O betrayal most foul, O freedom snatched away and lost forever, what have I done to deserve another minder."

"Just being you." Kate and Vienna answered together, breaking into delighted laughter.

"Okay, okay, enough 'Pick on Rick day'. Kate and I should get discharged on Friday….We're coming home."

 **Tampa FBI Field Office Wednesday Afternoon November 2**

Hayley groaned as another thread of her investigation unraveled. Motive, what possible motive could compel a DA to behave in ways that were clearly detrimental to his continued employment in the short term and his political ambitions (they all had political ambitions whether they would admit it or not) in the long term.

Money? Nope, dead end. DA Davidson was a single man with a well-paying job. He appeared to live within his means - barely. There wasn't a hint of a money trail.

Scandal? Another dead end. Davidson was no saint, a confirmed womanizer; but there were no whispers of sexual harassment in the DA's office. No affairs with married women or under-age girls, no prostitutes or call girls. Just a charming, powerful, pretty boy (not quite so pretty anymore since Vienna taught him some manners) trying to keep his sheets warm.

Ambition? Hah, he couldn't get elected toilet cleaner.

Stupidity? probably not. He had generally been considered a better than average DA in the five years he had held the job.

Mental illness? Possible, need to check further on that one. Not enough evidence yet to subpoena medical records.

Drugs? Alcohol? Maybe. I wonder if the Sheriff's office did a tox screen after his little adventure at Orion? Ten minutes and one phone call later, she had her answer - no alcohol or drugs in the DA's blood. Oh crap, what if they used something like what they used on Kate? The tox screen wouldn't show it. If some white powder and a flower could turn Kate into Suzie Super Slut, could they turn a DA into a lunatic? I wonder if they still have the blood samples? If they do, I need to get them to Lainie.

I think I need a coffee. As she stood, her phone buzzed and she flopped back into her seat as she recognized the caller. "Hey Vienna, what's up?"

Vienna didn't see any point in exchanging pleasantries, "I talked to Rick and Kate."

"Is she okay?" almost dreading the answer. "Please tell me she's okay."

"She's okay, she's been in the hospital, but she's better."

"Rick?" Hayley asked. "Are they together?"

"He's still in the hospital. The doctor's plan on cutting him loose on Friday. They're coming home Hayley. They'll be here Saturday. And yes they are together."

"It was more or less inevitable wasn't it?" Hayley chuckled softly.

"Right up there with the energy death of the universe." Vienna agreed.

"You said they're in the hospital. Do you know what happened?"

"No, but from the hints Rick dropped, it sounds like they had quite an adventure."  
"Vienna, why don't you throw a welcome home party?"

She pondered for a few seconds, "I like it. Let the employees all see Rick is back and the fight is on. Yeah, I like it."

"Vienna, may I ask a favor?"

Vienna met Hayley's gaze, "Of course, Hayley. What do you need?"

"I need Lainie to test another blood sample."

"They're going to be pretty immersed in analyzing the bomb casings for a while, but I imagine she could work in a blood sample. What's this about?"

"I want to see if DA Davidson's behavior could be caused by a bioweapon."

Vienna opened her mouth to protest. Failed as her jaws snapped closed. A frown grew as she wrestled with the implications of Hayley's hypothesis. "Wow Haley, you really know how to brighten a person's day."

"Sorry, but when you called I was trying to make a list of possible explanations, and that just popped in my mind. If they could do it once…."

"Kate said she had a second attack like the one at the hotel."

Hayley's hands flew to her mouth, "O God, no…"

"Apparently Rick was the only one with her at the time. She thought that was what convinced him to give her another chance."

"Silver linings, huh?"

"Yes. Hayley, don't overlook the simplest explanation; coercion. The bad guys could have just convinced him that they would hurt him or kill him if he didn't cooperate." Vienna suggested.

"Right," Hayley mused. "Or maybe a family member or even a friend. Well it looks like I've got plenty of leads to followup on."

"I'll text you the address of Lainie's new lab."

"Thanks, don't forget to send me an invitation to the party."

"You don't need an invitation, you're family now."

 **Tampa Orion Institute Wednesday Afternoon November 2**

"Well now, it looks like I have a party to plan." Vienna suddenly grinned as she realized she could have a little fun with this. Kathy Esposito looked up as Vienna strolled casually into Rick's outer office. "Ms. Vienna, have you heard anything?"

Ignoring the question, she responded "Kathy, I have a project for you. It's very important and may help Rick get home sooner."

The older woman perked up instantly, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to plan a homecoming party for Rick and Kate."

"Okay, when…They're coming home?"

"Yes, they're coming home. They'll be here around noon on Saturday."

Vienna slipped an arm around the other woman's shoulders, giving her a gentle squeeze as Rick's surrogate mother wept unashamed tears of joy. Vienna gave her a final hug before strolling back to her office, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. If she knew Kathy Esposito, it was going to be a heck of a party.

 **Red Wolf Yukon Territory Wednesday Evening November**

2Alexis, Kate and Kayla caused a bit of a stir as they strolled into Moosebrugger's Bar and Grill. Kate asked for a booth in a back corner that would provide a modicum of privacy. As they made their way through the jumble of tables and chairs, they ran a gauntlet of appraising glances and even a few muted whistles. Kate demonstrated conclusively that the Beckett glare traveled well; being just as effective in the frozen north as in sunny Florida.

Alexis, Kate and Kayla caused a bit of a stir as they strolled into Moosebrugger's Bar and Grill. Kate asked for a booth in a back corner that would provide a modicum of privacy. As they made their way through the jumble of tables and chairs, they ran a gauntlet of appraising glances and even a few muted whistles. Kate demonstrated conclusively that the Beckett glare traveled well; being just as effective in the frozen north as in sunny Florida.

They had hardly seated themselves when a harried looking waitress bustled over. "Doctor K, ladies. What can I get for ya?"

Kayla, being very familiar with the establishment, glanced at her companions. "Nachos?" she suggested.

"Sounds good."

"Yeah, sounds good."

"You guys like dark beer or light?" Kayla inquired of her friends.

"Dark."  
"Yeah, me too."

"Okay," Kayla turned back to the waitress. "We'd like two orders of your house special nachos, one chicken, one beef and a pitcher of Moose's Honey Oatmeal Porter."

"Honey-Oatmeal Porter?" Kate asked with a slightly skeptical expression.

"It's awesome," Kayla assured her, "Perfect counterpoint to the spicy-ness of the nachos."

"I guess I trust you with my life, I can trust you with my digestive system."

The waitress delivered the pitcher of dark amber, foamy beverage and three frosted schooners, before disappearing back into the crowd. Alexis poured and the three women clinked glasses, "Cheers."

By the time they polished off the nachos and drained the pitcher, they were feeling a pleasant buzz and it was time to get down to business. "So, Kate. What exactly are your intentions for our Richard?"

Kate couldn't help but squirm a bit. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, the two of them together were kind of intimidating. "Uh, I care about him."

"Bullshit," the two Castle women intoned in synch and loud enough that a few of the patrons at nearby tables spared them a curious glance.

"What do you mean?" Kate was trying to find a way out, but Kayla had cleverly blocked her escape route.  
"You're in love with him." Kayla stated emphatically.

"Crazy mad, head over heels, shout it to the world in love." Alexis added with a helpful smirk. "A blind person could see it."

"I think I am, I hope I am." Kate took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She was about to do something so completely out of character that the room seemed to spin around her like a cheap carnival ride. She stared blankly ahead, marshaling her thoughts and summoning up the courage to be totally open. To be honest and transparent with these women. "What has Rick told you about my past?"

"Nothing really. Other than the incident that brought him here. Rick's not a 'kiss and tell' kind of guy." Kayla assured her. "When did you and Rick meet?"

"A month ago, Saturday. The terrorist attack at the golf course in Tampa."

"That was you and Rick?" Alexis looked a little stunned, the news accounts of the attack had not mentioned the names of the 'Federal Agents' who had foiled the attack.

"Yeah, Rick and I plus my partner Hayley Shipton."

"Wow, that was a heck of a first date."

"So, you've known each other for a month. Have you slept with him yet?"

"Kayla!" Alexis chided as Kate blushed furiously.

"What?, it's an important milestone."

"It's okay, yes, I slept in his bed a couple of times and he was there at the same time. No, we haven't had sex." Kate tilted her head down, letting her hair hide the embarrassment written on her features.

"Why not?"

"Kayla!" Alexis gasped.

"It's not unusual for two people who are dating and develop feelings for each other to sleep together. You're telling me that you've never slept with a guy that you'd only known for a month."

Now, it was Alexis' turn to blush, which was pretty spectacular given her fair skin tone.

"I can't." Kate murmured so softly that her companions almost missed her words.

"Can't, as in …?" Alexis puzzled.

"As in can't fly, can't run a 1 minute mile, can't swim the Atlantic, can't."

"Something medical?" Kayla guessed, putting her doctor hat on for a moment

"Yeah, it happened when I was ten…."

Another pitcher, two bundles of paper napkins - in lieu of tissues - crumpled on the tabletop, Kate finishes her tale and sits quietly as the two Castle women regard her somberly. The red-rimmed puffy eyelids provide ample proof that they are not unaffected by her narrative. Indeed tears had fallen, lots of tears.

Kate can't help but feel like an accused waiting for the jury to render its verdict. She can almost hear the stentorian tones of the judge as he addresses the jury of her peers; "As to the charge of being unworthy to be in a relationship with Richard Castle - What say ye?"

"Guilty your honor."

"Kate, are you all right?" Alexis' question snapped Kate out of her daze.

"Uh…yeah, just spaced out there for a second."

Alexis traded looks with her cousin, "He always did have impeccable taste."

Kayla nodded agreement, "He does."

"What the heck are you two talking about," Kate demanded. "Just go ahead and tell me."

"What?"

"Tell me I'm too messed up, too damaged to be with Rick. Tell me to pack up and get out of his life."

The Castles broke out in near hysterical laughter. "Kate, Kate, Kate, you couldn't be more wrong. We're not figuring how to get rid of you. We're trying to figure how to get you two hitched."

"Hitched?" Kate choked, "Married?"

"Not right now, of course. You two were meant to be together. We all see it. He needs you." Kayla grasped Kate's hand in both of hers.

"Rick doesn't need me. He has everything. I'd just be a burden and a distraction."

"You remind me so much of Kyra in some ways." Kayla shook her head sadly.

Kate turned her attention back to Kayla. "I don't think I could ultimately live up to his memory of her. He hasn't moved on in fifteen years. What makes you think he'd really let me in after all this time?"

"Alexis is a little young to remember much about Kyra so I'll tell you a bit about her. "Outwardly, typical California girl. Killer tan, killer body, sapphire blue eyes. She was a Commander in the Navy. I know she worked in Naval Intelligence, but that's all I know about her job. She was wicked smart, but with a really delightful sense of humor. We all liked her a lot and she was really good for Rick."

"If you're trying to make me feel better," Kate muttered, "It's not working, how can I compete with his memories of wonder woman?"

"Because," Alexis took up the narrative, "When the going got tough, when her mother gave her an ultimatum - Rick or the high society lifestyle she was accustomed to - she took the easy way out. She made the wrong choice."  
"You, on the other hand, with an even starker choice chose Rick. You chose to fight for him even if it cost you everything." Kate could sense the absolute sincerity in Kayla's words.

"I'm trying. I want to so bad, but I don't know how. I'm afraid I'll mess it up."

"We won't let you fail," Alexis added her hand to the stack, "You're family now, Kate

"Of course, she still has to pass the initiation." Kayla snickered.

"Initiation, what initiation?"

"Oh, you know tests of endurance, strength and courage. It's pass/fail, you just have to survive. "Alexis choked back a giggle. "Then there's the mingling of the blood ceremony, and then it's official."

"Let me get this straight, you two did all this?" Kate questioned with more than a little skepticism.

"Oh yes."

"Of course, it's the rule. To marry into the family you have to pass through the test. I'm surprised Rick didn't tell you about it,"

"Yeah, I'm a little surprised myself? Kate's tone indicated an interesting discussion when she returned to the hospital . "So when do we do this?"

Kayla and Alexis exchanged glances. "We can do the first test now if you want."  
"Okay, might as well get it over with." Kate drained her last beer and the women donned their coats and traipsed out to Kayla's Jeep Wrangler. Kayla drove, since she was the designated driver. Alexis and Kate were more than a little buzzed, which was a contributing factor to the imminent shenanigans.

About a mile out of town, Kayla pulled the Jeep off the pavement and the three piled out and gathered at the back of the vehicle. She rooted around in the back and found a small coil of rope which she handed to Kate. "This test requires you to lasso a grizzly bear."

"No way," Kate started to back up.

"Okay, you don't have to do it, but we'll have to tell everyone that you don't have what it takes to be a 'Castle Woman'.

"Both of you did this? You swear."

"Yep.

"Although, to be perfectly honest," Alexis offered, "When I took the test, there weren't any grizzlies around so I had to lasso a black bear."

"They're smaller, right?"

"Yeah, but to make up for it, I had to do it naked."

"Forget that," Kate sputtered, "Give me the damn rope"

Kate watched the taillights of the jeep disappear around the first bend in the road towards town. The combination of a chill wind and the rush of adrenalin from realizing that she was alone in the wilderness in the middle of the night - was a bit of a buzz killer. What was it they were saying, some kind of initiation? Lasso a grizzly? They were kidding-weren't they? Maybe not, both of them are related to Rick after all. If he knows about this I swear I'll kill him.

Kayla drove for maybe half a mile, killed the headlights and executed a quick three-point turn; aiming the jeep back towards where they had left Kate. "Ya think she knows that she already passed?" Alexis asked.

Kayla gave her an evil grin. "Nah, she's not over the shock yet. Then she's going to get mad. Then we get to see what our Kate is made of."

"Our Kate?" Alexis responded with a quizzical lift of her eyebrows.

"Do you have any doubt?" Kayla quizzed.

"Not really. I think she'll stick it out."

"Me too. She's definitely stubborn enough to handle Rick. Let's just hope she has a sense of humor."

"How long are we gonna leave her out there" Alexis prompted.

"A half hour should be enough,"

"I'm never going to drink any more of that Canadian beer. " Kate promised herself. "And I'm sure as hell not going to do it with Kayla and Alexis. So what do I do now? Stay or walk back to town? I'll be hanged if I slink back into town, so I guess I'm staying.

Fifteen minutes later, Kate sees the glow of headlights approaching from the opposite direction as town. The vehicle tops a ridge and she identifies it as a pickup.

Saying that Seth Browning was surprised to see a woman standing alone by the side of the road would be a gross understatement. Recognizing said woman zoomed surprise into the realm of astonishment. "Ms. Beckett what are you doing out here," thinking she might have gone for a drive and run off the road.

Halfway through her halting explanation, she realizes that he is quivering with barely suppressed mirth. Kate had been thoroughly pranked, apparently a novel experience for her. Kate grasped at something - anything that would shift attention away from herself. "What's that big hairy lump in your truck, Officer Browning?"

"Oh, that's a moose, poacher kill. We confiscate the meat and donate it to a soup kitchen."

Kate had a sudden flash of inspiration. "Officer Browning, could you help me get a little payback?"  
Seth thought for a moment, then grinned "What do you have in mind?" Kate's idea had him chuckling to himself. "Okay Ms. Beckett, I'll help, this is going to be epic."

They had barely finished their preparations when Kate saw headlight beams approaching from the direction of town.

Kayla and Alexis gasped at the scene which greeted them. Kate was standing by the side of the road, much as they had left her, except they hadn't left a massive, hairy creature to keep her company. The jeep skidded to a halt and the two women jumped out. "Kate, what happened? Are you all right?" Alexis shouted.

"That's not a grizzly." Kayla observed, then recognizing the creature, "You roped a moose?"

"He just came out of nowhere," Kate responded breathlessly. "I guess I tied the loop wrong and it was too tight, and he suffocated." She sobbed as Kayla and Alexis tried to comfort her. A vehicle with flashing red and blue lights topped the ridge and the driver stopped just a few feet from the group.

"Seth," Alexis recognized the driver.

"Alexis, Dr. K, Ms. Beckett, doing a little moose hunting I see."

"No, we weren't hunting, it was an accident." They all protested.

Seth held up his hand, "Please ladies, one at a time. Now, who killed the moose?"  
"I guess I did," Kate admitted.

"May I see your hunting license, Ms. Beckett."

"Er…uh, I don't have one."

"Ms. Beckett, poaching is a very serious offense. I'm afraid I'm going to have to arrest you." He pulled a pair of handcuffs from the pouch at his belt.

"No, it was an accident, she didn't mean to."

"I'm sorry but your story is not very believable Ms. Beckett."

Kate turned and handed Seth his handcuffs. "But they believed it."

Their wide-eyed shock was a look Kate would never forget. "You tricked us!" "Payback's a bitch isn't it?"


	83. Chapter 83

**Tampa FBI Field Office Thursday Morning November 3**

Hayley sat bolt upright at her desk and stared at…nothing. Her latest search of District Attorney Davidson's financials turned up exactly what all her previous searches had found. Nothing. Whatever DA Davidson's motive was for his treatment of the Sergei Alexyev murder case and the meddling in the civil case; it was not money. There was no money trail. No bribes, no payoffs, no offshore accounts. If there were, she would have found it. She fired off an e-mail to Roy.

Next, she pulled up the CSU report. Gotcha, she smiled. No reasonable doubt existed that the corpse in the morgue was Sergei Alexyev. DNA, dental records and the enhanced video all matched. She briefly considered calling the DA , but he already demonstrated total disdain toward his duty and a willingness to ignore evidence. "I'm tired of all this screwing around, I'm calling in the clans on this one." she muttered as she scooped up her phone, took a deep breath to steady her nerves - what she was about to do was the legal equivalent of tossing a grenade through an open window - and entered the number.

"Good morning Agent Shipton. I was just going to call you."

"Uh… you were?" This was not necessarily good news.

"What the hell is going on down there? I leave the country for a couple of days and the DA gets a death wish, a couple of judges go brain dead and maybe worst of all, the U.S. Attorney sits around with his thumb up his ass instead of taking control of the murder case and squashing it like a bug."

"Well," Hayley replied "Judge Raglan and DA Davidson seem determined to get the Russians inside Orion. They're coming back for another go round by Monday at the latest. The murder case is not scheduled to go to trial until February. We have more than enough exculpatory evidence to get the murder charge dropped, but the judge won't allow the video in court."

"Okay, let me get this straight. The local DA files the murder case in Florida Circuit Court even though it's clearly Federal jurisdiction since Alexyev was a foreign diplomat. But, the U.S. Attorney sits around with his thumb up his ass instead of exercising jurisdiction. The local judge trying the civil case issues an order to allow the plaintiff to trespass on the defendant's property and confiscate documents that have no bearing on the case."  
"Don't forget that the local DA somehow jumps in and throws his weight around even though he has no standing in a civil case." Hayley offered.

"Right, well it seems like I have a bunch of new assholes to rip. Starting with the U.S. Attorney for letting me get blindsided by this."

"So what should I do?"

"Just sit tight, I'll let you know when I have things straightened out at my end. It may take a couple of days."

"Thanks, Ma'am." Hayley grinned as the Attorney General ended the call. Things are going to get interesting.

 **Red Wolf Yukon Territory Thursday Morning November 3**

I'll have coffee and a short stack of the Wild Huckleberry Pancakes. Kate handed her menu to the server and bestowed a suspicious glare at the other two occupants of the booth. "So why did you two ask me out for breakfast? No more initiations I hope."

Kayla and Alexis had the good grace to look apologetic. "No more initiations." Kayla announced. "We just wanted to get together before you and Rick leave tomorrow."

"It may be a while before we have another chance," Alexis added. "Us Castle women have to stick together."

"Well if you two are examples, then I'm honored to be a member of the group."

"We don't really know everything you and Rick are going to be facing when you get home. I've been around Rick enough to read his body language. It's going to be bad." Kayla's voice had a slight quaver as she reached across the table and covered Kate's hand with her own. "We just want you to know that we're always here for you."

Kate felt the sting of tears. Other than Hayley, she had never had a truly close friend. Now in the space of a few short weeks, she seems to have picked up a gaggle of new friends. Even more amazing, a maybe boyfriend. It was almost too much to wrap her head around.

The server returned with their order and conversation tapered off sharply as they doctored their coffee to taste and slathered the manhole-cover sized pancakes with maple syrup. "So any deep, dark secrets about Rick that I need to know," Kate inquired almost jokingly as the server topped off their coffees and whisked away the remnants of their breakfast.

Kayla and Alexis traded glances and nodded. "Kate you probably have already figured out that Rick is a much more complex person than what he generally projects to the world. Anything personal, you need to ask him, it's his story to tell." Kayla offered. "But, we can tell you some things you might not have learned yet."

Alexis spoke up, "Rick has an eidetic memory, especially when it comes to military history. He has an encyclopedic knowledge of probably every battle ever fought, but it's not just knowledge of facts. He 'sees' the battle as if he were there himself. He helped me with a school project once by taking me to the Cowpens battlefield. He was like channeling Daniel Morgan, in a trance or something. It was spooky. I swear I could hear the tramp of the British Grenadiers and the thunder of hooves as William Washington's cavalry crashed into the right flank of the British line. I didn't just imagine it Kate, I felt it.

"I take it you did well on your assignment." Kate smiled.

"Oh yes."

"He's an incurable romantic." Kaylah continued.

"I know," Kate grinned, remembering some of the sweet gestures Rick had made before the incident almost tore them apart.

"He's that kind of romantic too." Kaylah said. "But that's not what I meant."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I meant he was kind of born in the wrong century. He showed me his bucket list once. You would never guess some of the items."

"Well, you going to share?" Kate leaned forward fascinated.

"One was to hunt a lion with just a flint -tipped spear."

"Wow," A sudden vision of Rick in a fur kilt facing a sabertooth with a primitive weapon jacked her breathing up a notch. She felt the heat of a blush rising above her collar as she noticed the other two women smiling knowingly. "Tell me another one."

"Okay, he wanted to lead a cavalry charge."

"You mean with horses? Kate's quizzical expression triggered soft laughter from her table-mates.

"Yep, horses, swords, bugles."

"I see what you mean about the wrong century."

 **Tampa Orion Institute Thursday Afternoon November 3**

Vienna was prepping for a 4:00 meeting when her phone chimed. The caller wasted no time in small talk. "Vienna, this is Serena Kaye, I've got one question."

"Er…okay"

"Are you for real?"

"I beg your pardon."

"You, Rick Castle, The Orion Institute are you for real?"

"I'm still not following you Serena."

"Per our agreement, I've been checking you out, and what I've found is almost unbelievable. Your reputation in the Tampa area is incredibly positive. It seems like everyone in the area either works for you or wants to. I was shocked to find that the University is completely funded by the profits from the Institute. Even though it's a public university, it doesn't get a penny of tax money.

"Everything you've said so far is accurate. I'm impressed with your research" Vienna acknowledged.

"Be sure and watch Good Morning America tomorrow morning. They're going to do an eight week series on the Orion Institute. There's also going to be a Page 1 below the crease article in the Wall Street Journal."

"Excellent. I'll be watching." Vienna said happily. "By the way, we're having a party for all employees and some guests on Saturday. You're welcome to join us. It would give you a chance to interview some employees."

"I believe I will."

 **Red Wolf Yukon Territory Friday Morning November 4**

"What the heck is that?" Kate exclaimed as a huge flying machine roared over the ridge across the river and headed directly for the small group gathered at the 'terminal' for the Red Wolf airport.

Rick leaned in, "It's called a PAVE LOW."

"It's the biggest freaking helicopter I've ever seen."

"It's a beast." Rick agreed.

The pilot finally flared out and set the hulking aircraft down as light as a humming bird. Kate was astonished to see American insignia. She turned to Rick for clarification.

"This bird is part of a Joint U.S. - Canadian special ops exercise. They're going to drop us off in Anchorage. The Institute's Gulfstream will be waiting."

"This spec ops exercise just happened to show up in Red Wolf?" How does he do this stuff? He called the governor of Florida, he called the deputy Commander of NORAD, He called the commander of an infantry division, he called the Attorney General; and everyone of them - every blasted one - were perfectly willing to dance to his tune. Who, or maybe what is this man? Who could give a person that kind of authority?

It wasn't a painstaking gathering of evidence. It wasn't a relentless application of logic. Her answer came in a memory, an off-hand remark that had zipped through her brain so quickly that she completely missed the world-changing significance - her world at least. The Deputy Commander of NORAD was General Bernard Jasper. Rick pulled his 'kid brother out of that hell-hole in Bosnia'. Rick rescued a downed pilot that had been captured by the Serbs. The pilot's name was Lieutenant Jasper. When Hayley teased that Rick had the President on speed dial, Rick simply said 'number 1'. The President's name is Mitchell Jasper.

They were halfway to the helicopter when she finally put it all together. Rick works for the President. She stumbled slightly as that idea sank in. Rick quickly grasped her arm, allowing her to steady herself and continue. This was not the time, but they were going to have a serious discussion soon.

A crewman reached down and hoisted their luggage aboard, then offered Kate a hand as she climbed into the capacious cargo bay of the helicopter. Rick was close behind and caught the stunned looks of the passengers as the gorgeous brunette in skinny jeans, boots and a short down jacket clambered aboard.

The other passengers were twelve heavily armed soldiers, seated six to a side in fold-down jump seats that did not appear at all comfortable. The trooper in the first seat on the right jumped to his feet and snapped off a crisply perfect salute. "Lieutenant (he pronounced it lef-tenant) Harris Prestwick, Joint Task Force 2, Sir.

"Rick Castle" He extended his hand for a shake. "This lady is Special Agent Katherine Beckett, Federal Bureau of Investigation. She runs the counter-terrorism unit in Tampa."  
Lieutenant Prestwick's gaze narrowed as he regarded Kate in a different light. "You captured the nuclear weapons?"

"My team, yes." Kate gave him a brilliant smile.

"We've studied that op." He acknowledged. "It's an honor to have you observing our exercise ma'am."

"Thank you, I'm looking forward to it."

The crew chief handed Rick and Kate flight helmets and directed them to seats behind the pilot and copilot. Rick helped her strap in and showed her how to plug the helmet into the intercom. The rotor picked up speed and the heavy beat hammered at her senses. The raw power of the triple turbines was like nothing she had ever experienced and the notes went from a basso profundo to top tenor as the pilot advanced the throttle to full power and the bus-sized flying machine broke the restraining leash of gravity and leapt for the sky, seeming as effortless as a dragon-fly.

"Hang on, we're going NOE." Rick's voice sounded through the tiny speaker in her helmet. A confused look prompted him to elaborate. "NOE is an abbreviation for 'nap of the earth'. Means we fly between the trees instead of over them."

"Oh." She subconsciously reached up and tugged her harness a little tighter.

Rick Castle was an old hand as a helicopter passenger. A half hour into the flight, he decided that the young Chief Warrant Officer in the pilot's seat knew what he was doing and probably could get along just fine without his silent coaching. That being the case, he might as well catch a nap. Shifting to find a more comfortable position, he caught Kate's attention. She was sporting a grin that he hadn't seen since the night in his kitchen when they shared their first hug. The big helo rocketed upward to clear a ridge line and then plummeted like a stone into the next valley only to repeat the process a minute later. Most people who had never experienced NOE flying would have taken on a distinctly pale or greenish cast, depending on whether they were scared shitless or about to toss their cookies. Kate however was flushed and her striking hazel eyes were wide with excitement. She was enjoying this."Kate?"

She swiveled her head to see his face, "This is more fun than 'Falcon's Fury'."

"Falcon's Fury?"

"Yeah, you know, the roller coaster…at Busch Gardens…90 miles per hour, straight down … That roller coaster."

"I've never been to Busch Gardens."

"You've lived in Florida for - what - fourteen years and you've never been to Busch Gardens?"

"Mmmh, no. Doesn't seem like the kind of place I'd go by myself,"

"Oh Rick, first chance I get, I'm taking you to Busch Gardens."

"So you're a roller coaster fan." Trying to change the subject to something other than his lack of a social life for the past fourteen years.

Kate chuckled softly. "Not a fan, a fanatic. Biggest rush ever, until you let me drive the Ferrari anyway."

"Sweetheart, when I get back on my feet, I'm going to take you up in my F-20 Tigershark, and I'll show you some maneuvers that'll make your falcon puke.

"Bring it on Mr. Castle."

 **Tampa Orion Institute Friday Morning November 4**

Vienna and George McWhorter were seated at Vienna's conference table enjoying coffee and fresh-baked muffins from the Institute's cafeteria, while watching the Good Morning America segment. Since Orion was not exactly a household name, the first segment was primarily an introduction to the history and organization. Serena closed with the observation that Orion was truly a place where gender, ethnicity, age, and lifestyle choices were irrelevant. Only skill, knowledge, work ethic and loyalty mattered. Orion had no glass ceiling. Instead, in the words of Rick Castle, Orion had a magnetic ceiling. One that drew people upward empowering and equipping them to achieve and to grow.

"Wow," George set back in his chair as the segment ended, "She's amazing."

Vienna agreed, "She didn't get all those Pulitzers at a yard sale"

"Rick still going to be back tomorrow?"George asked, thinking about the legal ramifications, since Rick was technically a fugitive.

"Early afternoon sometime. I thought it would be good for morale for everyone to see Rick and know that he's back."

"You're probably right," George mused. "But what are you going to do if the DA shows up with a couple of SWAT teams and hauls him off to jail?"

Vienna shrugged, "We'll fight that battle when it arises. Rick's not hurt and helpless like before. If they try to drag him out of here, they'll have a fight on their hands."

 **Tampa FBI Field Office Saturday Morning November 5**

Hayley was headed for the Orion Institute Family Fun Festival. The call came at 10 AM. and she immediately executed a U-turn and sped off in the direction of the FBI Field Office. Jordan's instructions were to get to a secure computer as fast as possible and standby to receive an email with attached legal documents.

 **Tampa Orion Institute Saturday Morning November 5**

The Orion Institute opened its main gate at 10AM. More than a hundred cars were already lined up, the line stretching over a half mile down Fletcher Avenue. Fortunately, Kathy Esposito with her usual brisk efficiency, had arranged for traffic control. The main gate was in the center of the eastern perimeter fence. From the gate, a road ran due west to the Administration building. on either side of the access road was an open grassy area of approximately forty acres.

On the left side of the road, the open area was marked off for parking. On the right side, a dozen large mobile smokers were preparing to disgorge delectable pulled pork, ribs and barbecue chicken. Large tables held side-dishes, drinks and desserts. Three circus tents provided seating for 2000. Behind the dining tents was a children's area with games and carnival rides. One of the large tents also held a stage where the best of local musicians would play throughout the day.

Guest.s were not allowed to wander around at will. Concrete barriers blocked the roads past the Administration building and Javier's security personnel were stationed to prevent unauthorized access.

There was one other feature, and its purpose was not immediately apparent. Just to the left of the main road as one passed through the main gate, a 100 foot square had been marked off with yellow barrier tape. No one was being allowed to walk through or park in that space.

By 11:30 over 5000 people had entered the gate and the party was in full swing. A country band named Shiloh (a local band but very listenable) was playing and the joyous laughter of children floated on the breeze. Kathy, Javier and Vienna met near the main gate. Kathy looked a little stressed, Vienna ran to her and caught her in an enthusiastic hug. "This is amazing, Kathy you have outdone yourself. I think we need to do this every year."

Javier also embraced his mother. "Great party Mom. People will remember this for a long time." His expression suddenly changed as some movement near the gate caught his attention.

Vienna turned to see what he was looking at over her shoulder. "Not again, don't they ever give up?" She muttered angrily. "This is supposed to be a fun day, couldn't they wait until Monday? The disturbance was caused by the arrival of a Lincoln Town Car followed by four Hillsborough County Sheriffs Department Cruisers. The vehicles stopped near where Vienna, Javier and Kathy were standing. Javier spoke briefly into his throat mic and Orion Security Officers began to move toward the gate area.

Two men stepped out of the Town Car and approached Vienna. She recognized both men:District Attorney Joshua Davidson and Florida Circuit court judge John Raglan. DA Davidson hung back a bit, obviously not keen on a rematch with the petite samurai. The judge however strode boldly up to Vienna, waving a sheaf of documents. Vienna Takayoshi I'm ordering you to provide access to any and all structures on this property to representatives of the plaintiff in this lawsuit."

Vienna's response was short and pithy, "No."

"No?" the judge sputtered angrily. "I'll hold you in contempt of court."

"We're not in court. And I do hold you in contempt. By the way, you are trespassing on my property and I'd thank you to leave."

The judge gestured toward the cruisers and four men climbed out of each vehicle. One of the occupants was Hillsborough County Sheriff Alan Rainey. The rest were deputies in body armor and armed with M4 carbines or shotguns.

The disturbance near the main gate was attracting the attention of nearby party guests. The news spread like a wind-driven wildfire. Several hundred people had already gathered and the news passed from person to person, 'These are the people who cost us our jobs, these are the people who are trying to steal Orion from Rick. The crowd began to coalesce around the interlopers, No one had done anything threatening —yet, but the mass was clearly angry and the atmosphere was rapidly becoming explosive.

"Alan, I think you should get your storm troopers out of here." Vienna warned.

"I'm sorry, but I have to enforce a valid order. Now tell this crowd to disperse."

"No. these are my guests on my property, and no one has done anything remotely illegal."

"I want her arrested." Judge Raglan shouted, which was rash at best, and criminally stupid at worst.

"What charge?" the sheriff asked, incredulous.

"Inciting to riot and disorderly conduct."

George McWhorter appeared on the edge of the crowd, looking a bit bedraggled. He had forged his way through the crowd.

"Who are you?" The belligerent judge barked, too out of touch still to grasp the precariousness of his situation.

"George McWhorter, I'm Mrs. Takayoshi's attorney. What seems to be the problem?"

"Judge Raglan ordered me to arrest Vienna for inciting to riot and disorderly conduct."

"Alan, please point out the riot that my client is alleged to have incited." George indicated the front rank of onlookers with an expansive sweep of his arm. At least a third of the people indicated were children, many infants. "Let's be real gentlemen, who brings their kids to a riot? The disorderly conduct charge? Has Vienna ever done anything disorderly in her entire life?

"I want her arrested and charged," the judge looked as if he was about to have a stroke. Skin tone resembling an overripe tomato and turgid veins throbbing in his neck. "Sheriff, do your duty."

"Vienna, my hands are tied." the sheriff tried to apologize as he reached for her hands. "They're still not getting into my buildings, Vienna declared as the sheriff snapped the bright shackles on to her wrists. A growl rumbled through the crowd The sort of growl one might expect upon encroaching on a mama grizzly, with cubs. The front rank of the crowd linked arms and the six 'visitors' realized that there was no escape. The issue would be settled, one way or another here and now.

"Vienna, why are you doing this?" Sheriff Rainey implored, feeling more like General Custer with every passing second. Just to avoid antagonizing the crowd further, he removed the cuffs.

" **When Law Becomes Tyranny, Resistance becomes Duty**."

DA Davidson snickered, Where did you get that from? Oprah?"

"Thomas Jefferson." She turned her attention toward the main entrance, where there seemed to be a disturbance. because of the density of the crowd, she could not see the source of the disturbance but it was definitely getting closer. Shortly, a black SUV with flashing lights worked its way through the crowd and a familiar figure climbed out.

"Hayley!"

"Hey Vienna, I brought some early Christmas presents. Let's see." She handed Judge Raglan one of the legal-sized folders she carried.

"What is this nonsense?" "It's a Writ of Mandamus issued by the Florida State Supreme court. It orders you to vacate the lawsuit against Mr. Castle."

"No way, I refuse."

"In that case sir I have a Federal Arrest Warrant with your name on it. John Raglan, you are under arrest for conspiracy to deprive Richard Castle of civil rights under Amendment 4 and Amendment 5 of The Constitution. She read him his Miranda Rights and left him standing forlorn next to the Tahoe.

She turned to the DA. Joshua Davidson you are under arrest for obstruction of justice and conspiracy to deprive Richard Castle of civil rights under Amendment 4 and Amendment 5 of The Constitution. The crowd began chanting 'No, No, No'. Just as Hayley finished cuffing the DA, a helicopter roared across the tree-line to the south, circled once and touched down gently in -side the marked-off area. Hayley recognized the craft as the same Sikorsky S-76 that transported her and Kate from the golf-course crime scene to the Institute. The night that changed her life.

Hayley was curious as to who the passenger might be. Maybe Vienna was flying in a celebrity entertainer or something. The rotors stopped turning and the pilot hopped out to lower the boarding step. The first person was a woman. A tall, slender brunette. Hayley felt as if the ground were heaving under her feet, as she recognized the passenger. "Kate! O my God Kate."

Someone inside the helo passed a crutch through the door and a tall, broad-shoulders man climbed out, a bit awkwardly. He looked and Hayley gasped in shock. "Rick!' The crowd picked up her shout Rick, Rick, Rick..with a sustained roar that shivered the very trees surrounding the landing field and assaulted the eardrums of the onlookers.

Rick caught sight of Vienna at the edge of the solid wall of Orion employees. Hobbling on one crutch and leaning on Kate, he made his way toward her. At ten feet, Vienna couldn't restrain herself any longer, darting toward her two friends and enveloping them both in exuberant hugs. Javier was close on her heels, pounding Rick on the back until Rick had to play the injury card to avoid permanent damage. Scanning the crowd, he spotted Hayley, standing with the DA and judge. The people who had colluded to cause a significant fraction of the pain of the last month. His eyes went dark and hard. He lunged toward them, the look on his face so murderous that the four Sheriffs moved to intercept him, 'Stop, Rick. It's over. They're under arrest. They're going away for a long time Rick, I…. Sheriff Rainey dropped a firm hand on his friend's shoulder; partly in empathy, but partly to restrain. "You don't need an assault charge. Trust me."

"Alan, either shoot me or get the hell out of my way." Rick brushed the hand away and lunged towards the two prisoners. Judge Ragland seemed frozen, but Davidson tried to run. Three steps and he tumbled face first into the grass with Rick's crutch, thrown like a javelin tangled between his legs.

To most people, those of a more or less superficial acquaintance, Rick Castle was a large teddy bear. Calm, gentle and no great threat to anyone To his people, he was kind, generous, compassionate, slow to anger and quick to forgive. But to the predators of this world, he was Leviathan, protector, defender. avenger.

Should one list the actions that would thoroughly arouse Leviathan, the list would look something like this:  
Mess with Kate Mess with Vienna Mess with Jordan Pretend to be a protector, when actually a predator.

Two of the four unforgivables, now drove Rick forward grasping Davidson by the throat and hoisting him by main strength until his toes were barely touching the ground.

The hapless DA cast his gaze desperately around, searching for someone or something to provide the slightest flicker of hope. His gaze settled on the woman vainly hanging on to the hand not clamped around the DA's neck. He summoned enough breath to utter one rasping word, "Kate?"

Rick turned to Kate. "You know this scum?"

Kate nodded. "One of the guys who walked out half-way through the first date."  
Make that a trifecta of a chilling growl, Rick shook Josh Davidson (who was no lightweight) like a high-school cheerleader shakes a pompom. He loosened his grip slightly, allowing the erstwhile public servant the chance to suck down a halting breath. "Give me a name, Davidson."

"I…I.. can't."

Rick's tone would have chilled lava. "Davidson, you're not smart enough to do this on your own, "Now give me a name, or I will end you."

"Rick don't do this." Kate begged, joined by Sheriff Rainey, Vienna, and Javier, all to no avail. Rick was as immovable as a mountain.

He gave Davidson another shake and a dark stain worked its way down one leg of his expensive suit. Then, a fat tear slid down his face dropping onto Rick's fist. "He said he would hurt me. He told me if I didn't do what he said, He would cut off my …..?

"Give me a name."

"You don't understand." Josh sobbed. "Anybody would have done the same thing."

"Davidson, you bastard." Rick suddenly released him and sent him sprawling to the ground. Rick grabbed the tail of his polo shirt and ripped it over his head. A chorus of gasps showed that no one (other than Kate) had never seen the trophies of honor. "Don't tell me what other people would do. They did this to me. For days, I didn't talk." Tossing the shirt aside, he towered over Josh. "This is what your friends do to people, this is the kind of people you sold us out to. Now, give me a name."

"Vucovick." "Lazlo Vucovick? He's behind this?"

The DA gave a short choppy nod, cringing as if he expected to be struck. Instead Rick grasped the lapels of his suit jacket and hauled Josh to his feet "Vucovick is a minion, follower not a leader." Rick met his gaze with a laser-like glare that dared him to look away. "I want his boss, I want the ass-hole that gave the orders. Give me a name. Damn you Davidson, give me a name."

"I…I…don't know." But he cut his eyes toward Judge Raglan.

Rick let the DA slump back to the ground and rounded on the judge. Raglan was already sprinting toward the Sikorsky. Perhaps he had thoughts of taking the pilot hostage and flying out of the trap he had set for himself. His true design would never be known. A brunette streak executed a textbook open-field tackle, taking him down just three feet from the imagined safety of the helo. Kate Beckett had a lot of scores to settle, thus the tackle was perhaps a little more enthusiastic than absolutely necessary. Kate distinctly heard the satisfying snap of rib fracturing and the judge let out a piercing shriek of agony as he hit the ground with Kate's knee planted firmly in a kidney. A throaty roar of approval erupted from the crowd, and then and there The Orion Institute adopted Kate Beckett as one of their own.

Hayley fell to her knees and offered her handcuffs, "I think you'll need these,"

"Thanks." Kate gave her best friend a brilliant smile as she accepted the cuffs. She snapped them on with a decisive click and stood to embrace the younger woman. "I've missed you so much."

"I've missed you too. Katherine Beckett, don't ever to do that to me again."

"I promise. You can take the next adventure. I've had enough excitement in the last couple of weeks for one lifetime.

Rick arrived (Charley's special boots allowed him to walk, but only at octogenarian speed) and hoisted the judge to his feet. "All right Ragland, talk. Who is the man behind this?" Judge Ragland met Rick's question with a hateful glare, but his visibly clenched jaw indicated his refusal to talk. "Alan? Is that huge herd of bull sharks still hanging out off Clearwater Beach?"

The sheriff looked a little puzzled, "Yeah, couple of hundred. Why…..Rick..no.

"He's going to talk, Alan. easy or hard, up to him."

"But…"

"No but's. Nukes, nerve gas, killer viruses. He's up to his neck in all of them and he knows something. I'm not waiting for the first mushroom cloud. "Skip, start the bird, we're going to the beach."

"Rick, I'm sorry, but I can't let…"

"Give me your cell-phone" Rick's tone brooked no dissent and the sheriff reluctantly dropped the device in Rick's upturned palm. Rick quickly tapped in a string of numbers, waiting impatiently waiting for the call to connect. After several seconds, the call evidently connected and Rick stood a little straighter. "Storm Front," he spoke into the phone and passed it to Sheriff Rainey.

"Hello.. This is Sheriff Alan Rainey, Hillsborough County Florida, who is this? He braced abruptly and his face registered abject shock. "Yes sir, I understand sir. " Rainey looked a little pale as he shutdown his phone and slipped it back into a vest pocket. He took a deep breath, bordering on a sigh and met Rick's hard-edged stare. "All right Rick, We'll do it your way. But I'm going along."

"Me too," Kate interjected.

Rick started to refuse, but both Kate and the sheriff seemed ready to be stubborn about it.

"Okay, mount up. Alan, why don't you tell your guys to stand down and go get some Barbecue?"

"Good idea."

Skip McCutchen brought the helo into a hover, 200 yards off the beach and barely three feet above the placid surface of the Gulf. Rick stood bracing himself against the ceiling with one hand. His was voice hard and abrasive as the finest industrial diamond. The judge was pale and shaken, he had seen the swirling, dark masses of sleek-torpedo-shaped assassins in the glass clear waters. "Time's up Raglan."

" You don't know what you're up against." The judge hissed. "You're doomed, the city's doomed. The Czar is going to destroy you. You must pay for your betrayal. Your whole mongrel country must pay in blood for what they did."

"Czar? That's what you call the mastermind?" Raglan didn't answer, sitting motionless between Kate and the sheriff, eyes glittering with hate. Give me a name Raglan, who is this czar?"

The judge remained silent.

"So be it," Rick shrugged. He opened a storage compartment in the bulkhead next to the passenger door removed a safety harness and buckled it on. He next retrieved a 2-meter long line with clips on each end. One end he clipped to the harness he had just donned, and the other to a hook above the door.

"What's that for," Kate inquired.

"Safety line." Rick answered. "So I don't accidentally fall out."

"He doesn't have one," Kate observed, pointing to the trembling judge.

"Precisely," Rick slid the passenger door open and fresh salty tang of the sea filled the cabin. He latched on to the man's collar and belt, frog-marching him to the opening and glanced down. Fins slashed back and forth creating overlapping v-wakes and rolling occasionally with a flash of white belly. Bull sharks, most about 5 feet long, big enough to play their part with menace to spare. The judge shuffled forward until his toes were hanging over the edge.

"You can't do this, I'm not a criminal." Raglan snarled, the contempt in his voice burning like acid. "I have rights."

Rick's reply was as cold as a Yukon Glacier, "What you have is a short life expectancy, if you don't start talking."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Alan, do you have a knife?" Rick inquired, knowing that many officers carried a folding knife.

"Yeah, why…?"

"May I borrow it?

The sheriff retrieved his Spyderco Paramilitary from the pouch on his vest and made to pass it to Rick."

"Open it for me." Rick directed. "Let's make this interesting. Skip, take us down."

The helicopter eased downward with infinite care until the gentle swells were lapping just below the door opening. "You know, Raglan, they say a Bull Shark can detect a single drop of blood from a hundred yards away. I don't quite believe it myself, so what do you say we test that theory?" Rick suddenly reached across and drew the laser-sharp blade across his wrist.

Kate and the sheriff exclaimed in horror. The cut was not very deep but a steady drip of blood made it look horrific. Raglan gulped and his complexion took on a distinctly greenish cast.

Rick held his wounded arm over the water, allowing the blood to drip into the water. The surface erupted in a boil of frenetic energy. Dorsal fins and tails flashed past. One particularly exuberant 4-footer managed to get its snout inside the doorway, giving them a much too intimate view of saw teeth, row upon row. Rick casually nudged the beast away with his boot and slowly extended his arm leaning the Judge forward until his entire body hung over the edge, only the strength of Rick's grip between him and a horrible demise. Judge Raglan had enough. "Stop," he begged piteously. "I'll talk."

Rick hauled him in until he was once again standing upright in the cabin. I'm listening."  
"Nikolay, the Czar's name is Nikolay."  
"Can you describe him?" Kate spoke up.

"50's, short hair, five foot six inches, 150 lbs. "

"Anything else?" Rick prompted.

"Irkutsk. I don't know what it means, but I heard that word."

The judge twisted suddenly, breaking free of Rick's grip, and plunged out the open door into the maelstrom of a bull shark feeding frenzy.


	84. Chapter 84

**Tampa Orion Institute Sunday Afternoon November 6**

"I thought you might be ready for lunch." Kathy Esposito announced as she entered Vienna's office, carrying a takeout bag from Pasta -Pasta.

"You bet," Rick replied, glancing at the time display on his phone 12:47. Wow, he and Vienna had been working since eight o'clock with no break, and the last time he had eaten was around six. So, yeah he was ready for lunch. he noticed that Vienna had her usual - lobster ravioli and Kathy set his cannelloni al Forno at his seat as he passed out silverware and napkins. Did you get something for yourself ?"  
"Of course," she held up covered styrofoam bowl. "I love their Zuppa di Toscano. She made to leave, but Vienna gestured toward the seat next to her own.

"Why don't you join us?"

"Miss Vienna, I couldn't….. I mean …."

"It's fine Kathy, you you know almost everything that goes on around here anyway. So it's not a big deal." Rick agreed with Vienna.

Kathy could read Rick's body language quite well and it was obvious. He was up to something. Oh well, might as well find out sooner rather than later. "How is Miss Beckett?" Kathy inquired as they began eating.

"Physically, she's almost recovered from the attacks. Emotionally, she's dealing with a few things. But, overall, she's doing pretty well."

"I thought you might have brought her with you." Vienna mused.

"I don't think she's quite ready for the full Orion experience, maybe after the meeting next week, we'll read her in. Besides, she's spending the rest of the weekend at Haley's. They have a lot of catching up to do."

"Okay, but don't wait too long. If something happens to you, someone needs to be ready to step up to the plate."

Kathy was feeling a little confused, "Are you planning on making Miss Beckett your heir?

Vienna chuckled. "He's planning on making her his wife."

"Vienna's jumping the gun," Rick gave his partner a severe glance. "Much too soon to be talking about that."

"Speaking of guns, did Kate get reinstated at the FBI?" Vienna knew how much that had been worrying Kate.

"Yep, she met with Montgomery last night and she got her badge and gun back. Technically she's on medical leave until the end of the year, but I know her well enough to know she'll be back working on the case Monday morning. Hopefully, between Hayley and I we can keep her from overdoing it until she gets her full strength back."

Vienna scoffed, "Who's going to keep you from overdoing it until you get back to full strength?"

"Funny girl, people trying to keep me straight is one thing I have no shortage of."

Kathy stood and began gather the remnants of the meal. "I'll get back to work, thank you for lunch."

"Actually, Kathy, you're the next item on the agenda." Vienna said, "Please stay."

When Kathy had reseated herself, Rick began the conversation. "Kathy, Orion is poised to experience significant growth. In order to handle that growth some reorganization is going to be necessary."

Vienna took the reins. "When we first began operations, we were very lean, too lean and things sometimes got overlooked. That's when we decided to hire you as Rick's executive assistant. I have operated without one but, I'm starting to feel the pinch a bit. I've really enjoyed working with you while Rick was away, and I've come to appreciate even more how important your contribution is. I told Rick this morning that I'd love to steal you away. But I can't take the risk of Rick Castle running around the business with no supervision."

"Hey I'm right here you know." Rick protested.

Vienna chose to ignore his protest. "Therefore we propose to create a couple of new positions in the executive office. First, we are creating a Chief of Staff position. That person would be responsible for all staff functions in the executive office."

"We'd like you to take that position." Rick smiled.

"Of course, if you take the Chief of staff Position, that we will have to find a victim.."

"Hey",Rick protested.

"I mean candidate for Rick's personal Executive Assistant. We also propose to hire an executive assistant for me and also hire couple of interns for some special projects I have."

"I didn't expect anything like this." Kathy murmured. "Can I have some time to think about it,"

"Of course, think about it and if you have anymore questions, see me or Vienna."

"Think she'll take it?" Vienna asked as Kathy disappeared into Rick's office suite.  
"Guarantee it." Rick knew Kathy really well, "She won't be able to resist the challenge."

Next item, actually two items rolled into one - "What do we do about perestroika?"

"How far along did you actually get?

"Antares is up and running, all the equipment is validated and they're working on the bomb casings from Rocky Flats." Vienna scanned the status report Lanie had e-mailed her earlier.

"I have an idea about Antares."

"Oh," Vienna greeted Rick's statement with a raised eyebrow.  
Just like Kate he thought, and Jordan and Kathie and Hayley. They must learn that at girl school.

"This idea is not going to be like the genetically modified earthworms is it?"

"You're never going to let that go are you?" Rick sketched an exaggerated pout that served its intended purpose and got Vienna to laugh.

"Hell no. Best blackmail material ever."

"It wasn't really that bad."

"Rick, they ate all the plants. At least, they turned out to be sterile and couldn't reproduce."

"Are you interested in my idea or not?"

"Okay let me have it." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms across her chest.

"Hey what's with the closed off body language? You haven't even heard my idea yet."

She lowered her arms and motioned him to proceed.

"The situation is that at the moment, we have two fully functional analytical labs, but only enough people for one. We could decommission the Antares site again, but the folks over there worked their behinds off to get it up and running. I don't want to pour water on their fire by shutting it down again so soon. I think we should keep both facilities open." He watched the subtle play of emotions across her features. Her eyes were half-closed and her head tilted forward. Typical signs that a 'thinking fit', as Rick called it, was occurring.

She recovered after a few minutes. "You want to use Antares for outside work." A statement, not a question.

"Yeah, I think we have a window of opportunity here. The work we've done for the FBI has gotten around in the law enforcement community. I don't particularly want outside work to be in the lab here for security reasons, but we have a second fully functioning lab that can handle contract work for other organizations."

Vienna nodded, "I agree but we'll have a shortfall in staff for the two labs until we can recruit and train staff for the new lab."

"We also need to find a boss for one of the two labs."  
Vienna interjected with a grin, "Lainey - I think she's ready for more responsibility and we need to formally recognize her contribution to the organization. Do you remember the first day she showed up for work?"

"Yep the analytical lab was a supply closet and she was the only employee. To go from that to where we are now tells me she can do it again. Try this idea on for size - We take 2/3 of the existing staff for the lab here and let the remaining staff form a cadre to get the new lab up and running. We operate the new lab as a separate business, not an offshoot of Orion. In fact, I think we should talk to Paul about taking Antares public.

"What about Lainey?" Vienna reminded.

"We offer her the COO position at Antares."

Vienna's mind went into overdrive as she considered the implications. As Chief Operating Officer, Lainey would have total responsibility. including marketing and sales not just the technical side of the business. "You know, I've gotten several hundred calls from people looking for high end analytical services and I had to turn them away from Orion. But if we offer an alternative, wow it could be big."

"I know," Rick grinned.

"You're sure Lainey's ready for this?"

"Absolutely, What about you?"

Vienna paused for a couple of heartbeats remembering another young woman, who beyond reason, was offered the opportunity of a lifetime strictly on the strength of Rick's intuition. "Like you always say, 'go with your gut' and my gut says do it. I suggest we offer Lainey's old job as director of the lab here to Kevin."

"Agreed."

"Next item - The other 'perestroika' locations. We have signed contracts on three of the four other sites and Martha tells me she'll have a signed contract for the remaining one by the end of the week."

Rick started the discussion, "Vienna, we've been talking for a while about manufacturing some of our designs ourselves. I think that is a crucial need if you consider the events of the last few weeks."

Vienna nodded her agreement, Yes, there's no way we're going to turn Valkyrie over to someone else to build."

"You're right, and the same situation exists with Firestorm, Nanobot, Mithril, metastable materials and others. Currently those things are being produced either in small batch prototypes or at best, low-rate pilot lines. We need to go to full-rate production on all these and more by yesterday."

"I agree." Vienna got the predatory look in her eyes that he'd seen so many times before. "Sounds like I need to go manufacturing engineers."

" I have a friend who works for Ford. The assembly plant he runs is the second most efficient auto plant in the world. He could probably give you some ideas where to start looking, as long as you promise not to poach any of his folks."

"On it," She responded "Next item - When do we reopen for business?'

"How about we give everything another week to calm down and let everyone know to report as normal a week from tomorrow?" Rick proposed.

"Good, It's kind of spooky in here with everyone gone. Last item - Valkyries."

"Bring them back." Rick stated decisively, "We're going to need them."

 **Atlantic Ocean near Gunslinger Key Monday Morning November 7**

"Up periscope," Captain Konstantin Makrosov stooped and caught the periscope handles and pressed his eyes to the eyepiece, walking it around as the gleaming tube rose smoothly to its full extension. By the time it locked into place, he had made a complete visual sweep of the horizon. Then he made a second sweep, very slowly and deliberately. Not just because Captain Makrosov was a careful and deliberate man by nature; but because of the current position of his command. Velikye Luki, the Russian Navy's only Spetsnaz submersible lay motionless barely 1000 meters off the coastline of one of the myriad small islands in the Florida Keys.  
Anatoly Petrov the sonar operator/electronic warfare specialist met his gaze and shook his head – no contacts, either sonar or electronic emissions. The captain pressed a switch on the periscope, activating its integral infrared detector, and swept the periscope through another 360 degree arc. Nothing. No one had the slightest clue that they were there.

Makrosov turned the scope to the west, focusing on the objective for tonight's mission. The island was about 3 miles long from north to south and three structures were outlined by the dim landscape lighting.

The middle structure was seemingly occupied, interior lights gleaming warmly from the large windows and occasional flashes of movement that validated the intelligence data he had received during his mission briefing. The two large structures were the vacation homes of two of the American plutocrats who strutted about the world stage as if they had a divine right to dictate and interfere in the business of other nations. The smaller residence in the center of the island was supposed to be the home of the servants who maintained the property and catered to the whims of the elite. He flipped the switch to activate the infrared imager and chuckled grimly when he saw the fine, web-like tracery of laser tripwires. Apparently the capitalists were a little insecure.

A discreet cough brought his attention back to the current mission. He nodded to Major Suva and stepped aside so that the younger man could use the periscope. Suva grunted as he swept the scope back and forth taking in all the details. Finally, he turned to the Captain, "It's nice when reality matches the briefing. Is it not?"

"Nice but rare." The captain agreed.

"With your permission, sir. We'll be going."

"Of course Major,." As usual, Suva was precisely on schedule.  
The major gathered up his dive gear and disappeared through the forward hatch into the 'torpedo room'. Velikye Luki didn't carry any torpedoes, her true weapon was perhaps more deadly; a six man team of Spetsnaz combat swimmers. The diver's egress tube bore more than a superficial resemblance to a torpedo tube, so the name stuck.

Major Suva's team assembled in the midnight blackness under the dock that jutted out from the shore near the southernmost residence. After securing their personal propulsion units to the pilings that supported the dock, they crept out, armed only with silenced pistols. They were not here to fight, but to scout the objective. The fight would come later when the owners of the residences were present. Major Suva did not know the identities of the owners and had only a vague idea of what they had done to bring the wrath of the Czar down on their heads. It didn't really matter, he would carry out his mission and in a little over a week, Colonel Tyurin's commandoes would storm ashore and the inhabitants of the island would die.

He led his team out and almost sneered. This was a soft target, the laser trip wires were glaringly obvious to his night vision goggles, and his men avoided them easily. An hour later, his team reassembled in the shelter of the dock. There had been no sign of any other alarm systems, and no sign of booby traps or anything else that would hinder the attack. He had his men retrieve their propulsion units, but he had one additional task, he crept over to the nearest laser and deliberately broke the beam with his hand. Nothing happened for maybe twenty seconds, then all the lights he could see extinguished simultaneously. Moving at a fast crouch back to the shelter of the dock, he looked to the north and noticed that the interior lights in the smaller house had also been turned off. That was mildly interesting. The normal reaction when something goes bump in the night is to turn lights on to dispel the darkness; which is the worst possible course of action, ruining your night vision and highlighting your visibility to anyone outside of the illuminated area. Apparently someone in that house knew what they were doing, not that it would help them any.

He reached the dock and sent a single click over his radio notifying the other teams that he had triggered the alarm system. Less than five minutes later, he heard two clicks signifying that one of the mainland surveillance teams had observed a chopper lifting off and heading for the island. So there was a reaction force. Clever, but not clever enough. When the real attack went in, the reaction force would be dealt with - decisively.

Two hours later, Velikye Luki with her Spetnaz team were safely hidden inside the hull of her mother ship, and the heavily modified assault landing ship disguised as a container ship headed south well outside US territorial waters.


	85. Chapter 85

Kate stretched tiredly. The little time stamp in the bottom corner of her computer screen indicated 3:37. She'd been working over 5 hours straight without a break, no wonder she felt drained. Damn paperwork. Sometimes it seemed as if an hour's worth of investigation generated three hours of mind-numbing form filling. Glancing at her phone, she saw a waiting text from Rick: Hey beautiful, call me when you get a chance. The message had come in an hour earlier and she had been so focused on work that she hadn't noticed. Hopefully he wouldn't be too upset. He picked up on the first ring.

"Hey."

"I'm sorry I didn't call back sooner, I was just so caught up in the case that I didn't hear it."

"That's okay," he replied, "Anything new?"

"Not really, I'm doing paperwork and I've got Hayley working on identifying the perps from the mall."

"Sounds like fun." He chuckled, "Anyway, the reason I called, is I talked to my sister."

"Yeah?" Kate felt her heart rate speed up and she found herself gripping the phone tighter.

"She wants to meet you."

"Seriously?"

"Yep, she invited us up for Thanksgiving."

"Wow, okay, I guess. What did she say about the…."

"She gave me two names, one at Johns Hopkins and one at UCLA. I hope you don't mind, but I called the doctor at Hopkins." He paused expectantly, waiting to see if she was ready to go on.

"Rick, I don't mind, we're in this together, right?"

"Right, so this Dr. Santiago has a cancellation and can see you Thursday if you can make it. If not Thursday, then it'll be a couple of months before she'll have another opening."

"I've got a ton of sick days saved up. Shouldn't be a problem. So the doctor's a woman?"

"Yeah, I thought you'd be more comfortable with a woman."

Damn the man, it's only been a month and he already knows me. I think he meant it when he said he loves me.

He interrupted her thoughts. "Do you have plans for tonight?"

"Er—no" she replied somewhat hesitantly.

"How about you come over for dinner?"

"Er—okay, but—"

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to." He said gently.

"That's the problem, I do want to, but I know I shouldn't."

"Why not?" but he was pretty sure what she was going to say. Too much, too fast.

"Can we talk about it tonight?"

"Sure, can you be here by seven?"

"Yep, if nothing major breaks between now and then."

"Okay, see you then." He hung up, and she took a deep breath. She wanted to be fixed physically, she really did, but at the same time it was scary. If the doctor could fix her, she would be hard-pressed to find a reason not to sleep with Rick. The sexual tension which was now simmering on the back burner would erupt into a rolling boil and she wasn't sure she could stop it even if she wanted to. Why did he have to be so-so-Rickish. So sweet and gentle and ardent and strong and smart and just damn amazing. One freaking month to turn her carefully built fortress into rubble. One week to see her wildest fantasies as real possibilities for the first time in her life. She propped her elbows on her desk and buried her face in her hands. I'm in so much trouble.

"What's the matter, girl?" Hayley asked as she strolled into Kate's office.

"I'm going to have to sleep with him." Kate groaned, without raising her head.

"Who? Rick?"

"Yeah."

"Kate, most women wouldn't find the idea of sleeping with Rick distressing. So what's bothering you?"

"He found a doctor whom he thinks might be able to fix my—uh—problem. I have an appointment on Thursday."  
"I still don't see the issue here." Hayley said with a hint of exasperation.

"I've convinced myself that I'm a strong independent woman, that I don't need anyone, especially a man to take care of me; and suddenly my whole life is a shambles. We haven't had sex, haven't even really kissed, but I already can hardly stand to be away from him, especially at night. If I get fixed then we'll make love and God only knows what will happen then."

"What do you want to happen?" Hayley asked, leaning forward intently. "Move in with him? Get married? Hatch little baby sparrow hawks?"

"Yes, all of those things. But, it's only been a month. Hayley I've never really been with a man, and in one freaking month I seem to have fallen head over heels in love and we're sitting here stone cold sober having a discussion about getting married and having babies. It's just too much."

"Is Rick pressuring you?"

"No, no he would never do that. Ya know, it would almost be easier if he did, then I could push back and make things go slower. But, as it is he just keeps moving forward and I go with because I don't want him to go alone."

"So you think if you could have sex, that you would and things would move even faster?"

She met Hayley's's gaze with the barest hint of a smile, "Warp speed." She agreed.

"Just go with it."

"How's the identification going?" Kate inquired changing the subject.

"Slow but sure, got three already from our database, and two from Interpol."

"Anything interesting?"

"Not really," Hayley responded, "Same motley collection we saw at the golf course. Two Serbs, one Korean, one Iranian, and a Russian." She paused for a second, "Actually there was something a bit interesting."

"Yeah?" Kate gave her a questioning look.

"Uh huh, both of the Serbs had the same tattoo. Never seen one like it before."

"Maybe Rick would recognize it." Kate mused, "He did two tours in Bosnia. Do you have a photograph, I'm going to his place for dinner tonight and I can show it to him if you'd like."

"Sure." Hayley shuffled through the case file she was holding and extracted a printed photo. "Here, Take this one."

Kate arrived at Rick's at 6:54 and entered the kitchen to find him putting the finishing touches on a pizza. "That looks interesting." She commented as she gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"It's one of Jack's recipes," he nodded, "Thin crust with plum tomatoes, leeks, bacon and goat cheese." He finished assembling the pizza and slid it into the oven. "You said you wanted to talk?" he prompted somberly.

Kate paused for a deep breath, before plunging in. "Rick, I'd like nothing more than to be with you tonight and every night for that matter, but I don't really think it's fair to you to have to fight the temptation constantly. I don't want to cause you any distress."

"It's a lot worse when you're not here than when you are," he stated gravely. "I miss you so much when you're not here. A cold shower is not nearly as bad as a cold bed."

The evident sincerity in his eyes sent a surge of heat through her body, crashing into her heart like storm driven breakers. It was just too much to fight it any more, for in truth her feelings were equally strong, equally undeniable when honestly evaluated. She climbed off the barstool and walked deliberately into his embrace. "I'm done Rick, I surrender."

There is surrender and there is surrender; there's the surrender of a vanquished foe; beaten down and compelled to yield, to bend the knee in submission and the neck to the yoke. But, there were no foes here, no conquerors, and no losers. Just winners, the sweet surrender of two souls trembling on the brink, steeling themselves for whatever the future held.

Rick's pulse thundered in his ears as he pulled her in and enveloped her gently, but firmly for all that. "I surrender too." His voice raspy and raw. "No matter what happens, I'm yours."

"My paladin?" she looked up smiling through tear glazed eyes.

"Your everything." He added.

"I love you Rick."

"I love you too, Sparrow Hawk." He released his embrace to cup her face between his hands, gazing deeply into her eyes, the golden highlights amongst the brilliant green, shimmering in the subdued lighting. He swallowed abruptly. No guts, no glory. "Kate Beckett, unless you give me a very emphatic 'no', I'm going to kiss you now." He paused for a second, giving her the opportunity to apply the brakes. She didn't. A small tremor, more sensed than felt, rippled through her as if to dispel the last remnants of doubt. He saw the throbbing pulse in her neck as her eyes flicked downward to his lips and then back up to meet his gaze. I'll take that as a yes.

No truer measure of Rick's self-control existed, than the fact that at this moment he leaned in to her with exquisite gentleness and his lips covered hers as the dew covers the rose at the first blush of daylight. He was waging a campaign, not a skirmish; now was not the time for winning, it was the time for wooing.

I wonder if this kissing thing is all it's cracked up to be. His lips closed over hers, soft but firm, promising more than demanding. Her body seemed to operate on pure instinct as she tilted her head and felt her own lips stir in response. He seemed satisfied and she parted her lips slightly, drawing in an involuntary breath that pulled his bottom lip into her teeth, and an entirely unintentional nip. His low growl in response stirred her as nothing ever had. Kate was a fighter, a woman as passionate as any who ever walked. Inexperience be damned! Soon they were on the floor, tongues dueling, hands roaming, colliding, grappling, retreating; then returning to the fray as labored breaths somehow supplied enough oxygen for another round. Finally, they lay side-by-side on the floor staring up at the ceiling as their pulse and respiration slowly subsided. She laced her fingers through his "That was…," but words failed her. She turned her head slightly toward Rick, and almost laughed at the look on his face, beatific perhaps closest to the truth..

"I must be a very good teacher," he said softly.

"What?"

"You said you'd never kissed anyone before right?"

"Yes," she agreed. Not like that, for sure.

"Then I must be a very good teacher."

"Maybe it's just natural talent." She teased.

"God, I hope so."

The timer on Rick's oven dinged. "The pizza's ready," she pointed out unnecessarily.

"Screw the pizza, let's make out some more."

She giggled, "I'm starving, I wouldn't have the strength."

"Okay" he stood and reached down to pull her up, stealing a quick kiss. Want to just eat here in the kitchen?

"Sure." She pulled a couple of bottles of Sam Adams out of the fridge. Rick served the pizza and they ate in companionable silence for several minutes. Kate took a long pull of her beer before setting it firmly on the counter. She met Rick's quizzical glance with a slightly hesitant look of her own. "May I ask you something?"

He carefully replaced the slice he had been preparing to devour and nodded emphatically, "Of course, what is it?"

"I want you to teach me."

The corners of his mouth quirked up slightly, "I thought we decided it was natural talent?"

"Not that," she smacked him lightly on the arm. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr. Castle."

"I'll try, but it's hard."

"Try harder," she huffed. "No, I want you to teach me all the stuff you do, you know, the soldier stuff."

Wasn't expecting that. "What makes you want to learn that?" he asked.

"I want to know you, the real you, I want to know what makes you tick. If we're going to be together, we have to understand each other, right?"

"Yes, we surely do."

"You already know a lot about my job, about law enforcement. But, I know next to nothing about military things. So, will you teach me?"

He nodded firmly, "Yep. Does that mean you want to go out in the woods and get your hands dirty?"

"Of course, think I can't handle it, Mr. Castle?"

He shook his head with a grin, "You're going to regret it. But you'll handle it just fine."

"Why would I regret it?"

His grin got even wider, "Because we're going to do it right, no shortcuts, and no mercy."

"Bring it on, Mister Castle, bring it on."

"Ready for your first lesson?"

"Now?"

"Sure, why not?" They cleaned up the remnants of dinner, and he took her by the hand and led her to the den, where he pointed to one of the two leather upholstered recline that dominated the center of the room. "Have a seat," he said gesturing in their direction. 

Kate seated herself and watched as Rick retrieved two large tablet computers and turned on the large flat screen. I hope I haven't gotten myself in over my head, he has an extremely mischievous glint in his eye. He handed her one of the tablets and seated himself. The screen on the tablet now showed what appeared to be an aerial view of a stretch of hilly woodland. A paved road more or less divided the screen in half. Looking up, she noticed that the large screen was displaying the same view. Meeting his gaze, a raised eyebrow conveyed her question.

"It's a war-game, Kate."

"A game? Are you making fun of me?" her glare was merciless.

"No, no, never, maybe I should use the term 'Combat Command Simulator'. It's called Phase Line Zulu. It was developed to train Company and Battalion level commanders in combined arms tactics. It's the most sophisticated combat simulator ever developed by several orders of magnitude.

Kate smiled at his boyish enthusiasm, "So what do we do?"

"We're going to have a little battle." He made some entries on his tablet and some figures appeared at the corner. The system is capable of handling battles in any time period from the end of World War 1 to several years in the future. But tonight I'm going to keep it simple. The battle is set in World War II, during the German invasion of the Soviet Union. The Russians are retreating and you, my love, have been given command of a small force to set up a roadblock and hold it as long as possible. I, on the other hand am a dashing and intrepid German Panzer commander."

"Dashing and intrepid? Seriously?" trying but failing to completely suppress a giggle.  
"Well yes, I can be indepid and trashing when I want to."

"In your dreams, maybe."

"Anyway, I'm commanding the advance guard of the German force, and it's my mission to clear the roadblock quickly so the advance can continue. The figures in the lower right of your screen are the troops you have available: three infantry squads, a light antitank gun and a heavy machine gun. Now you need to deploy them on the map." He continued, showing her how to place her units and prepare hasty fighting positions. "Go ahead and deploy. Let me know when you're done."

"Okay, I'm ready." She stated a minute later. "What next?"

"I've already given my guys their orders, so all I have to do is start the simulation. This is real time, so you probably won't have time to issue many new orders. You just have to live with what you have now. It'll probably be more interesting if you watch the big screen. By the way, there are some pretty realistic sound effects." ####  
There were many adjectives that could legitimately be applied to Kate Beckett; and of those a significant fraction demanded superlatives. One of those was 'competitive'. She loved testing herself against the limits of skill and endurance with a truly fierce love. She threw herself wholeheartedly into any endeavor, whether athletic or intellectual or professional; and if there was a living, breathing adversary to pit herself against, so much the better. Rick was about to see a new side of Kate.

For several minutes, nothing happened on the screen, the pastoral sounds of cicadas and birdsongs emanated from Rick's speakers as if to lull her to sleep. Then, there was a flicker of movement at the very edge of the screen, where the road emerged from a tree-line. A burst of adrenaline swept her, setting her heart to pounding and a thin sheen of perspiration decorated her upper lip as she started to worry her lower lip with her teeth. What is he up to? What am I missing?

A dozen or so men appeared at the edge of the woods and spread out on both sides of the road, they moved forward in small rushes, one group moving while another took cover. It's like a game of leap frog. Except they're coming toward me. I wonder when I should start shooting. She glanced at the range scale, the nearest were still 200 meters from her position. Probably too far. I'll wait till they get to about 50 meters and then open fire.

A new sound caught her attention; the drone of engines and a peculiar metallic clanking that gave her a shiver even though she wasn't sure what it was. It didn't take long to find out. Four vehicles burst from the woods and charged ahead, straight toward the road block. She sucked in a shallow breath, Tanks, damn him, he didn't say anything about tanks! She aimed a glare at Rick, but he sat relaxed, serenely watching the screen. He can afford to be serene; he's the one with the tanks. The two larger tanks (she later learned that they were Mark II light tanks) slowed down when they reached the infantry skirmish line, and the two groups advanced together, still in the peculiar alternate rushes she had already seen.

The two lead tanks opened up with their turret mounted 20 mm auto cannon and raked her dug in infantry positions from one end to the other, and her infantry started to take casualties. Damn him, she raged as she belatedly ordered her infantry to open fire. Wait, didn't Rick say that that weird looking little cannon thingy was an "anti" tank gun? She quickly selected the gun, which was hidden behind a small clump of trees to open fire. The first shot hit the front turret of one of the Mark II's, but nothing happened, and the tank kept firing.

The two smaller tanks (later identified as Mark I reconnaissance tanks) turned sharply to the left and accelerated. The anti-tank gun got off one more shot (it missed) at the Mark I's before they passed behind the clump of trees and out of its line of fire. Kate was starting to have very bad feelings about this situation. A drop of sweat ran into her eye, causing her to blink rapidly as she desperately flogged her brain for a possible solution to this mess, then everything went to hell in the proverbial hand basket. The two small tanks, having circled the clump of trees, burst upon the gun at close range, machine guns blazing. The gun crew was wiped out before they could reposition their gun, and the tanks charged on, taking her positions at the road block in the flank. The remainder of Rick's infantry charged out of the woods on her left flank and suddenly little flickering specks of white appeared as her surviving troops surrendered.

That was disgraceful, she raged at herself, heart thumping a merciless tattoo of frustration and embarrassment. She hazarded a quick glance at Rick. His gentle smile somehow annoyed her more than a blatant smirk of triumph. Maybe Rick was the god of battles' own true paladin and she was a total newb; but, did he have to make it look so damn easy?

"I warned you." He reminded her gently. She drew breath to retort but he continued, "No shortcuts, no mercy-remember."

"I remember," she snapped. "I didn't think it would…"

"Be quite so merciless?"

"Yeah."

"I wanted you to get a couple of things out of this little exercise. One, I want you to realize that all your preconceived notions about how military operations are conducted are not just wrong, but grievously wrong. So I had to beat them out of you." She grimaced "Metaphorically speaking of course." She rolled her eyes. "Two, I wanted to show you that war is really very simple." She gave him a look that dripped skepticism. "I didn't say easy, because it's definitely not easy; hellishly difficult in fact. But, the basic principles are few, and easy to understand. Even should you turn out to be a combination of Alexander, Genghis Khan and Hannibal Barca, there are no new principles or secrets; just a deeper understanding and more creative application of the principles I'm going to teach you. Fair enough?"

Kate found herself intrigued and challenged almost against her will. "Fair enough."  
"All right, now we're going to run the simulation again, but you're going to apply just two of the principles of war and see if that makes a difference. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Principle number one – Surprise. Always try to deceive, mystify and mislead the enemy. It's not what the enemy doesn't know that kicks their ass; it's what they think they know that ain't so. In this battle, you dug in your infantry right out in the open, right on top of the roadblock. So this time, I want you to make sure I don't know where your troops are at until you open fire and I want you to cover the roadblock by fire without actually sitting on top of it."

"Okay, I get it."

Principle number two – Make maximum use of the terrain. Get as much cover for your infantry as you can. Give them a covered line of retreat if you can. Trying to hold a position with no line of retreat has a name – it's called a last stand. Troops normally fight much harder if they have some hope of getting out alive. Finally, the anti-tank gun I gave you is kinda wimpy. It'll handle the Mark 1's pretty well, but to kill the Mark 2's you either have to get very close or hit the side or rear. So, find a position for the anti-tank gun that gives a flank shot if you can. Take the Mark 2's out first since they're the most dangerous. Site your heavy machine gun to cover both the anti-tank gun and the roadblock. Okay?"

"Okay." The map reset and the starting units again lined up at the bottom of her screen. She sat for a few minutes, chewing studiously on her thumbnail. I wonder what kind of weapons the infantry has. What range. "Rick?"

He looked up from his tablet.

"Is there a way to tell exactly what weapons the infantry is carrying?" She asked with an air of innocence wholly misleading in its intent.

"Sure," he replied, "just tap the unit you're interested in and hit Function T for a table of equipment."

"Thanks." She selected one of the infantry squads consisting of twelve men and found its equipment consisted of eight Moisin-Nagant rifles, three PPSh submachine guns, one PTRD antitank rifle, a couple of dozen grenades and two demolition charges. Demolition charges? Hell yes, demolition charges! Stealing a quick glance at Rick reassured her. He was focused on his tablet, probably planning some demonic new wrinkle in his attack. She didn't seem to have given away anything. She quickly finished deploying her units and sat quietly until Rick finished whatever he was doing and met her gaze.

She gave him the sweetest most innocent smile her considerable acting skill could muster.

"I'm ready."

"Okay, here we go." He tapped the screen, and the battle unfolded exactly as before, up to the point when the tanks joined up with the infantry. Rick studied the area around the roadblock intently, there was no sign of Kate's troops, but he had a roadblock to clear, so he pressed on.

At 50 meters there was still no sign of resistance, so he continued the advance and ordered his force to halt at the roadblock. He realized his mistake almost instantly, but it was already too late. Kate unleashed her attack, and it fell on the roadblock like a Texas tornado hammering down out of a super cell on a hot August afternoon. Blast after blast ripped the air apart as Kate triggered the demolition charges she had buried next to the roadblock. One of the Mark 1 tanks was flung bodily over on its side where it quivered helplessly like an upended tortoise and a Mark 2 lost a track spinning it about and giving the anti-tank gun an almost perfect up the skirt kill shot. The infantry, at least the ones not killed outright stumbled about in shock as her infantry opened fire from the woods edge 50 meters away.

With a lesser opponent, it might have ended there, but this was Rick Castle and reaction was without conscious thought, pure instinct and something indefinable, something metaphysical, barely known even by himself. That something that had served him well on a score of battlefields. The surviving tanks turned and stormed at the gun, machine guns and cannon blazing. This time, Rick had sent a squad down each flank and they charged towards the center, almost instantly colliding with Kate's flank guards. A vicious firefight broke out in the woods to either side of the road. Rick's superior numbers was starting to assert itself and Kate knew it was time to go. She gave the order to withdraw. 

Rick was studying her as the battle ended. The color was high in her cheeks and her breathing was shallow and rapid, her nostrils flaring slightly like a war horse straining to hear the first notes of the bugle sounding the charge. What could he conceivably have done to deserve this amazing woman? Whatever it was, it was worth it. He stood and she looked up shyly, almost as if he might be upset that she had twisted his tail so thoroughly. "Kate that was freakin' awesome!" he offered her his hand and pulled her up to face him.

"Did I do okay?"

"Okay? Okay! That was stupendous." He paused for a deep breath, "Kate, I've probably run that scenario at least a hundred times and nobody, but nobody has ever come even close to that. He raised her hand up to declare victory, but she turned it into a shimmying little pirouette of a victory dance that sent his heart into his throat and probably reduced his life expectancy by at least an week.

No guts no glory. He suddenly scooped her up and bore her across the den towards his bedroom.

Any thought of resistance died. Whatever Rick had in mind, she was up for it, ready to give as good as she got.

Rick lowered her gently to the bed and climbed in beside her. He rolled over so that a small part of his weight was on her, pressing her into the mattress. He lowered his head slowly until their lips met and he felt her shiver with pleasure. Kate was a fast learner, and this time she moved to deepen the kiss. She opened her mouth a little wider and sucked his lower lip into her mouth where she nipped it with her teeth. Rick growled with each little delicious burst of pain, which only served to heighten her own level of arousal.

She soothed his lip with her tongue and he sent his to meet it and duel for dominance. Eventually the duel ended in a truce and he moved to kiss his way down her jaw to her ear lobe which he subjected to the same ministrations she had given his lip earlier, tiny nips followed by soothing swipes of his tongue. A breathy little moan followed each swipe as the heat swirling through her body started to coalesce in her abdomen. Rick left a trail of kisses down her neck to her pulse point where he repeated his previous ministrations. "Rick!" she cried, "Yes, oh yes!" The heat in her abdomen became unbearable and released in one powerful surge, every muscle clenching and her back arching into Rick's body.

Rick rolled back onto his side, his expression registering a curious mixture of surprise, awe and …pride. He had experienced women screaming his name out during sex, but never before when just kissing. If every make out session was going end like this, wow, just wow! Kate opened her eyes and gave him a dreamy smile. "Was that what I think it was?"

"If you think it was an orgasm."

"Wow, I didn't know you could have one from just kissing."

"It's not exactly a common occurrence." Rick added dryly, "I think I'm starting to buy that 'natural talent' theory of yours."

Kate smiled at the compliment and scooted over turning Rick onto his back and assuming her usual position in the crook of his arm with her head on his chest. She raised her head slightly so she could look into his eyes. "We're going to be good together aren't we?"

"Extraordinary!" he replied with total conviction.

"Extraordinary." She murmured agreement. Thirty minutes later, Kate roused from her ebbing bliss "Rick?"

"Uuummh."

"It's too early to go to sleep, and I hate to interrupt your afterglow thing, but would you help me out with something related to the case?"

He propped himself up on one elbow, "Sure what is it?"

"I left it in my car, give me a minute and I'll run down and get it." She rolled out of the bed and he followed.

"Do you want me to walk you down?"

"I'm a big girl, I think I can handle it. But you can fix me a cup of that herbal tea chai thing you do."

When Kate returned, carrying her overnight bag in addition to Hayley's photo, Rick was seated at the bar with two mugs of tea and a plate with two delicious looking pastries. She climbed up on the stool beside him.

"Maria left the scones this morning," he pointed out, "and we missed dessert."

"Not that I noticed," she grinned and he chuckled.

"So what have you got for me?"

She handed him the photo," Can you identify this tattoo?"

He glanced down at the photo and froze like a bird dog on point. His eyes went dark and dangerous. Wasn't expecting that reaction. "I guess you do."

"Kate, where'd you get this?"

"Two of the perps from the Mall had this tattoo. What does it mean?"

"Arkan's Tigers," acting as if the words themselves tasted foul. "This tattoo means they were members of Arkan's Tigers."

Kate covered his hand with hers and squeezed gently. "I've never heard of them."

"They were a Serb militia group. They were responsible for a fair chunk of the genocide campaigns and atrocities that were reported out of the Balkan conflict."  
"Are they still around?"

"Not that I know of, they were mostly wiped out back in '93."

Kate studied his expression, sensing the emotions roiling beneath the surface. "You had something to do with that didn't you?"

"Yeah, a little."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"Yeah," he drew a deep breath, "It all started with a recon mission into the area controlled by the Serb militias….."


	86. Chapter 86

Bosnia 1993

First Lieutenant Rick Castle wriggled to the top of the woodpile and braced his arms carefully. He lifted the pair of Steiner binoculars to his eyes and quickly focused on the two vehicles currently parked just inside a tree line about eight hundred meters to the north.

"LT," his platoon sergeant hissed from behind and slightly below. "What. Do. You. See….sir?" Rick hated it when Gunny Snyder used that exasperated tone.

"Two Burdums, Gunny." The Russian-built BRDM scout car was a light, four-wheeled armored car generally used for reconnaissance. Its relatively thin armor would protect the crew from bullets and grenade fragments, but not much else. Rick preferred to think of them as the outriders of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. There was power behind those two nondescript vehicles, power, and malice.

"Is it them?" the veteran gunnery sergeant queried.

"Yeah, it's them; I can see the markings, Arkan's Tigers for a certainty." Rick allowed himself to slide backwards down the woodpile, coming to his feet just behind the gunnery sergeant, who was peering through a gap in a dry-stacked stone fence that defined a corner of the small farmyard on the outskirts of the village of Ludovic.

"How far back do you think the main body is, LT?"

"Probably one to two klicks," Rick answered, and anticipated the Gunny's next question. "Means they'll be coming over the hill there in ten to twenty minutes."

"I'll go check the men one last time, then, sir." And he trotted off, moving carefully to avoid being spotted by the recon units on the hill.

Sweat was starting to sting his eyes, so Rick removed his helmet and mopped his face with a bandanna, wondering how a hillbilly from North Carolina managed to find himself in northeast Bosnia facing an advancing elite enemy mechanized force of some four hundred troops and three tanks, and with only ten Marines (counting himself) and no heavy weapons. Well, actually, no heavy weapon was a little bit pessimistic. The retreating Spanish had somehow managed to "forget" two C-90 rocket launchers with two extra reloads for each.

Two days previously, Rick's Force Recon platoon had found the assembly area of the Serb Volunteer Guard, also known as Arkan's Tigers. The Tigers were enthusiastic participants in the ethnic cleansing campaign mounted by the Serbs. As far as Rick could tell, ethnic cleansing consisted of murdering, pillaging, plundering, and raping their way across the countryside until someone with bigger guns or bigger balls told them to stop. The UN high command trying to make peace in the region had neither.

Rick had immediately tried to call in an air strike; hell, two Tornadoes with cluster bombs could end the Tigers' reign of terror without breaking a sweat. He had been told that an air strike would be unnecessarily provocative, and that the UN command was in Bosnia to make peace, not war.

Rick's reply had not been entirely congruent with established military protocol, especially that portion dealing with the respectful deference owed by mere lieutenants to full colonels. The remainder of his platoon had been highly amused when their new Lieutenant ripped into the sector commander, although he had points deducted because the man was not a Marine, or even an American, but rather a Belgian logistics officer.

Three days before they found the assembly area, Rick's platoon had entered the small village of Gornji. It had been attacked several hours earlier, before daylight, and it appeared that the attackers had merely lined up a number of tanks and rolled through the village, crushing everything in their path. The handful of Bosnians who had been able to escape their crumbling houses had simply been machine-gunned and left to lie where they had fallen.

In the rubble at the center of the village, someone had erected a pole and wired a child's stuffed tiger to it, gleefully proclaiming the supposed invincibility of Arkan's Tigers, the modern equivalent of Attila's Huns, or Tamerlane's Mongols.

Rick had left Private Pederson watching their back trail, and now the nineteen-year-old from the low country of South Carolina came trotting up the road, his head swiveling, trying to locate his platoon leader. Rick stepped out of the shadows and raised his arm to attract the private's attention. Pederson ran up to Rick, stopping about three feet away.

"What is it, Pederson?" he queried.

"Convoy coming up the road, sir. All blue vehicles."

"UN," Rick growled under his breath. "Useless Nonentities." Well, at least the villagers might get a decent burial. "How long?"

"Twenty minutes or so, sir."

"Okay, anybody got a lighter?"

"Here, sir." Lance Corporal Anders held out his classic Zippo.

The lieutenant nodded his thanks. "Everyone mount up and get ready to move. I'll be back in a second."

He turned and strode toward the center of the village and its grotesque abuse of a child's toy. Partway there, he stopped and picked up a battered metal can of the type that normally held lamp oil. Checking the contents using the simple expedient of removing the cap and sniffing, he nodded in satisfaction and trudged on, struggling slightly to maintain his balance as the loose rubble shifted unpredictably under his feet. He reached the pole and stood, stretching as high as possible, to pour the entire contents of the can over the stuffed tiger, soaking it thoroughly.

He threw the can away and flipped open the lighter before flicking the knurled wheel with his thumb, causing a small flame to spring up. He touched the lighter to the pole and larger flames sprang up instantly, running up the pole and engulfing the tiger. Some would have called it an empty gesture, but to the waiting Marines, it was a promise, a solemn vow that someday soon the Force Recon Platoon of the Third Battalion/Eighth Marines would cross swords with Arkan's Tigers, and it would be a meeting the Tigers would never forget. The Marines took up the trail, and disappeared into the forest.

Gunnery sergeant Allard Snyder lay patiently in the thicket that provided cover for the platoon. His axis of observation included the route that his boss, 1st Lieutenant Rick Castle, had taken with Lance Corporal Kenan Bah on their mission to infiltrate the Serbian assembly area and gather intelligence. He lifted the fabric cover on his watch and stole a quick glance underneath. 02:40. They had been gone for an hour. No sign of any disturbance in the Serb encampment, so they probably had not been detected.

He shifted again to ease a pain in his back and let his mind consider the young officer who had become his platoon leader just five weeks before. In many ways, young Castle was the ideal Marine officer. Personally brave, he seemed to become calmer and more in control as the situation became worse. He had good tactical instincts for someone with his limited experience. And while his plans were not always optimal, they were always workable, and always simple. He had an uncanny ability to anticipate enemy moves and intentions.

In other areas, he was not so ideal. He not only thought outside the box, he refused to acknowledge the existence of boxes. He was no respecter of authority, especially fools in authority. Sergeant Snyder sometimes wondered what sins he had committed that could only be expiated by turning this kid into a Marine officer. In a Recon platoon, the lieutenant's eccentricities were at worst annoying. In a regular rifle platoon, they would be fatal.

In many ways, Lieutenant Castle seemed to have been born for Recon. His ability to move silently and invisibly through almost any environment was becoming legendary, and even the Serb militias that swarmed in his area of operations had started referring to 'the ghost.'

The gunny heard a sound so soft that he might have imagined it, but he had been caught too many times. He rolled slightly to the right, taking in the combat boots that had appeared beside his head.

"Showoff," he muttered softly.

An equally soft chuckle sounded from above, and the lieutenant dropped prone beside the gunny. They pulled a tarp over their heads, and the lieutenant fished his red-lensed flashlight out of his pack and used it to illuminate the short stack of documents Corporal Bah had taken from the cab of one of the trucks parked below.

"This looks like an operations order to me, LT," the gunny suggested, his index finger indicating one of the documents. "Me, too," the Lieutenant agreed, "but we need to figure out this map."

The gunny rotated the map ninety degrees to the right. "I think this is north, sir."

The Lieutenant pulled his tactical map out of his pack and compared it to the rough, hand-drawn one they had liberated. "I think you're right Gunny. That would make this line the river, and that line the road to the southeast."

"What's the shaded-in area there?" the gunny pointed.

"I'm guessing that's a village or small town," the Lieutenant said, unfolding another section of his tactical map and studying it, squinting at some of the small type. "I make that the village of Ludovic, population 800. The map says there is a UN garrison there."

"Well, sir, garrison, or no garrison, this here operations order says these bastards are going to hit it about midday, day after tomorrow, October 25, 1993.

The Lieutenant thought for a few seconds, and then made his decision. "Get everyone together Gunny, we're pulling out."

"Where to, sir?"

"Ludovic. We're going to give the garrison a heads-up and see if there's anything we can do to help."

Twenty minutes later, the platoon was moving south as rapidly as possible, given the need for stealth.

The afternoon of October 24 found Rick's platoon concealed in a tangle of jumbled boulders five hundred meters northwest of the village of Ludovic. Rick slowly and painstakingly swept the village with his binoculars. The most obvious feature was a makeshift flagpole that had been erected in the village square. Two flags were attached to the pole.

There was enough breeze to periodically straighten the fabric, making the colors and insignia visible. The topmost flag was simple, red with a broad yellow horizontal stripe, the national flag of Spain. Interesting, Rick thought as he shifted his attention to the lower flag. It was midnight blue with a gold border and a coat of arms that appeared to be composed of a wreath surrounding crossed swords. Rick was mildly annoyed that he didn't recognize it immediately, but as he mulled it over in his mind, it finally registered. He gave a low whistle, eliciting a puzzled question from Gunny Snyder.

"What is it, LT?"

"It's the freaking Spanish Legion, that's what it is."

"Is that good or bad, sir?" Sergeant Snyder was not exactly up on the Spanish army.

"Good for us, bad for the Tigers. These guys are the best the Spanish Army has to offer. They're good. Really good."

"So how do we play this, LT?"

"Gunny, I suddenly have this overpowering urge to make an entrance. Show these guys that they're not the only elite outfit in the neighborhood."

"I like it." Damn, the sergeant thought, this kid's starting to rub off on me.

"Get someone to cut a couple of poles, Gunny."

The sergeant disappeared among the rocks, returning in a few minutes with two straight alder poles, each around eight feet long and an inch in diameter.

Rick walked to where he had left his pack and rummaged around, finally retrieving two neatly folded flags, one obviously the Stars and Stripes and the other a Force Recon guidon. The flags had fabric ties sewn in for just this circumstance, and Rick quickly secured one to each pole. He left each flag folded, so that it would lie flat until released by a quick twist of the wrist.

"All right, Gunny, let's form up."

Private Hector Guzman was renowned for his eyesight; the merest flicker of movement on the road to the north drew his attention instantly. A small group of men had just emerged from the rocks to the northwest and formed up in the middle of the road. He was so thoroughly astonished that he forgot to report it until the group stepped out, marching with a slow deliberate tread that exuded supreme confidence. "Sergeant of the guard, post number three," Guzman called out and heard the call repeated down the line of outposts. In minutes, Sergeant Garcia was kneeling beside Guzman's foxhole.

"What is it, Guzman?" The private just pointed down the road.

The sergeant's gaze followed the pointing finger, and he rocked back on his heels in astonishment. Ten men in two files of five were marching straight down the road toward them. Although clearly armed, they weren't doing anything particularly aggressive; but he quickly decided this was above his pay grade and sent a runner for his platoon leader, Teniente Cesaro Cellar.

The Teniente arrived slightly out of breath, having sprinted the entire hundred and fifty meters from the command post. "What's…going….on….Garcia?" he gasped.

The sergeant merely pointed down the road and it was the Teniente's turn to register astonishment. In the Spanish Legion, even the lowest-ranking officers are expected to exercise judgment and initiative. The small group approaching did not appear particularly threatening, but one did not survive long in Bosnia by taking things at face value. One word kept repeating itself in his mind: diversion. Making his decision, the Teniente turned to his bugler. "Stand to." The crisply demanding metallic notes rang out over the village, rousing the rest of the company, who immediately grabbed their equipment and rushed to their fighting positions.

Private Guzman was starting to get a little nervous, as the latest arrival to the neighborhood of his foxhole was the commander of the garrison, Commandante Orlio Gutierrez.

The Commandante followed the pointing fingers and tried to digest the meaning of what he was seeing. The small unit had halted when the bugle call rang out, but now they resumed the march, moving steadily closer to where the Legion officers were gathered. What the hell do they think they're doing? The commandante wondered. He turned to Teniente Cuellar. "If they keep coming, challenge them at fifty meters." In the event, the instruction proved unnecessary.

Rick halted his unit just short of fifty meters. Then Rick's command voice rang out, carrying clearly to the Spanish officers. "Present colors!" The color-bearers gave a quick double twist of their wrists and the flags unfolded with a snap, rippling free in the breeze.

Commandante Gutierrez laughed heartily. He recognized an excellent gesture when he saw one. He traded a glance with Teniente Cuellar. "Americans, and they've got to be Marines. Only Marines are that crazy." He squeezed past the barrier that had been placed across the road and strode to meet the Americans.

Rick also stepped forward, meeting the Spanish officer halfway and saluting crisply, "Lieutenant Richard Castle, Force Recon, Third Battalion, Eighth Marines. At your service, sir."

Commandante Gutierrez returned the salute with equal crispness. "Commandante Orlio Gutierrez, Bandera Valenzuela, Tercio Quattro, Legio Espana. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit, Teniente?"

"I have some intel that I think you would find useful, sir."

"Of course, Teniente, if you will accompany me to my headquarters, I would be most appreciative of any information you care to share." He paused for second, taking in the haggard appearance of the young officer. "How long since your men have had a hot meal, Teniente?"

Rick shuddered. "Two weeks, sir."

"I think we can do something about that. Bring your men and follow me, Teniente."

Rick waved his men forward, and they followed the commandante in single file through the barrier and down the road to the center of the village, where several large tents had been erected. As they reached the tents, the commandante summoned his adjutant and instructed him to take Rick's men to the mess tent and see that they were fed.

Rick followed the commandante into the garrison Command Post tent. The commandante motioned toward a folding table covered with a tactical map of the area. "Take a seat, Teniente." Rick chose one of the folding chairs and sat wearily. The commandante sat across the table from him. "Very well, Teniente, what do you have for me?"

"Sir, a battalion-size task force of Arkan's Tigers with armor support is going to attack this village tomorrow around midday."

The commandante straightened abruptly, his piercing gaze searching Rick's features, gauging the credibility of the young American. "You're sure of this, Teniente?"

"As sure as I can be, yes, sir." Rick reached into the side pocket of his BDUs and placed the captured documents on the table. Commandante Gutierrez picked up the documents and quickly scanned the pages, giving a sharp intake of breath when he reached the operations order.

"May I ask where you obtained this, Teniente Castle?"

"We, uh, stole them from the Tigers' assembly area."

"Let me get this straight, Teniente. You and your men just walked into the assembly area, stole a copy of the operations order, and walked back out?"

"Actually, sir, it was just me and one other man, and it was in the middle of the night."

Recognition flared in the commandante's countenance. "Force Recon….Castle… you're the one they call the ghost, aren't you?"

Rick blushed under his tan. "Er…yes, sir, I have heard the term."

The commandante flicked the operations order with his index finger. "This doesn't leave much room for doubt, does it?"

"No sir, it doesn't."

"How many tanks do they have?"

"Three that we saw, Serb-modified T-55s."

"You know what bothers me about this, Teniente?"

"I can think of several candidates, sir."

"Since they only have three tanks and we have four Milan launchers, the correlation of forces should seem rather adverse from their perspective. So why are they still advancing?"  
"Yes sir," Rick nodded. "If you knock out the tanks, what's left is four hundred thugs pretending to be light infantry. Your troops should kick their asses all the way back to Budapest. Which makes one wonder, since they haven't exactly shown a penchant for stand-up fights…what is really going on?"

The two men gazed thoughtfully toward where the Serbian forces would appear in a matter of hours.

Finally Rick broke their silence. "May I ask a favor, sir?

"Certainly."

"May I use your radio, sir? Mine quit working yesterday and I need to report to my colonel."

"Of course Teniente. Do you need an operator?

"No sir, I think I can handle it."

"Very well, Teniente, then I'll go see to my defenses."

The commandante left, and Rick moved over to the radio table. He gave the radio a few minutes to warm up before dialing in the proper frequency for the Third Battalion's TOC. "Iron Mike-6, This is Paladin-6, Jericho, repeat Jericho." He felt a little guilty using the Jericho code word, which meant his command was in imminent danger.

The answer came back almost immediately, "Paladin-6, hold one." Apparently, Iron Mike-6, Colonel Bernard Jackson, was not in the TOC. Five long minutes elapsed before Rick heard Colonel Jackson come on the line."Paladin-6, this is Iron Mike-6 actual, sitrep please." Rick quickly and succinctly filled his CO in on the situation in Ludovic. "Good work, Paladin-6, sounds like you've got the goods on the bastards. I think it's time you came home. We'll turn your evidence over to the War Crimes Tribunal."

"IronMike-6," Rick responded. "Permission to speak freely, sir."

Rick could almost hear the colonel sigh. "When have you ever done anything else, Paladin-6?"

"Er…yes…Sir, my men and I want to help."

"What do you mean by help?"

"Sir, in the last two weeks we have seen the aftermath of five villages that have been hit by these bastards, and enough is enough. Since when have Marines stood by and watched as innocent civilians are slaughtered, and done nothing because the barbarians might get their feelings hurt if we protect their victims?

"Sir, we want to fight! Like the hymn says, we want to fight for our honor, for the honor of the Corps and for the honor of our country.

The colonel gave the approved answer, even though it tasted like a bitter poison in his mouth. "Paladin-6, the UN policy is…"

"With all due respect, Colonel, sir, I don't give a rat's ass what UN policy is if I have to see another village that has been slaughtered to the last man, woman, and child. Sir, all I'm asking is that you don't order us not to fight."

The colonel knew that Rick was setting it up so he would personally take the blame if the Marines fought and political repercussions were so severe that someone must be punished.

In fact, the colonel was almost as fed up with the situation as Rick. That kid has a couple of big brass ones hanging, he thought, how can his colonel have any less? "Paladin-6, this is Iron Mike-6. You are hereby ordered to offer your assistance to the commander of the garrison of Ludovic and to render any aid that you may deem necessary and proper considering the Laws of the United States of America, and the laws of nature and of nature's God. Semper Fi, Paladin-6."

"Semper Fi, sir." Rick turned off the radio and kicked back in the folding chair for a second, weighing the colonel's words. He hadn't expected what amounted to a blank check, but that's pretty much what "any necessary and proper aid" amounted to. He grunted softly in satisfaction and chuckled at the Colonel's appropriating a phrase from the Declaration of Independence. Old Tom Jefferson sure had a way with words, didn't he?

Rick strode purposefully out of the headquarters tent and into the mess tent where his men were finishing their meal. They all looked up expectantly as he entered, and Gunny Snyder spoke for the rest. "What did the Colonel say, LT? Do we fight or flee?"

"We fight," Rick answered as he seated himself at the table with his men. Corporal Anders passed him a hunk of bread liberally spread with butter and a large bowl of stew. He sniffed it appreciatively, recognizing the aroma. Gulyas he thought, and decided that the villagers must be doing the cooking. Gulyas was definitely a Balkan delicacy, not Spanish. He tasted the rich stew and groaned in appreciation. Two weeks of living on MREs and power bars became a distant memory as he sopped the last minute trace of stew from the bowl with a last morsel of bread.

Gunny Snyder again spoke for the rest. "What now, LT?"

"Now I guess I'll track down Commandante Gutierrez and see if he wants our help." Rick stood and walked to the entrance of the tent, just as the Commandante and his staff returned from inspecting the company's outposts. Rick stepped forward to meet the Commandante.

"Sir, may I have a word with you?"

"Certainly, Teniente." He waved his staff on into the headquarters tent and looked at Rick inquiringly. "What can I do for you?"  
"Sir, my colonel ordered me to offer to assist you in any way that you deem appropriate."  
The commandante seemed to stiffen his posture. "I appreciate the offer, Teniente, but I believe we can handle the Tigers without any help."

"I know that, sir. It's a matter of honor. My men and I are tired of following these animals around and seeing village after village destroyed, and not being allowed to do anything to stop it."

The commandante visibly relaxed. "I understand very well the concept of honor and what it means to a proud organization like the American Marines." He thought for a moment and then nodded "Very well, Teniente, in that light, I accept your offer. I have a squad posted to watch the right flank next to the river. If I could put your men there, then I could use the squad to strengthen my position forward of the village. Would that be acceptable, Teniente?"

"Yes, sir, we are yours to command. We would be honored to accept any mission you choose to give us."

"Then if you will get your men and follow me, I will show you to your fighting position." The commandante led them back up the main road to the outskirts of the village, where he turned east towards the river. A squat-looking structure sat there, right next to the riverbank. It was surrounded by a dozen or so troopers from the Legion who were improving or preparing firing positions.

The commandante called out to one of the men, who hurried over and snapped to attention. Rick correctly surmised that this was the squad leader. He was somewhat older than the rest of his men, with the hard-eyed watchfulness of a veteran. He listened respectfully to the commandante, and then turned and shouted a command to his men, who immediately ceased work and began to gather up their weapons and equipment. Within minutes, they were formed up and marched off to the west behind their sergeant.

The sergeant gave Rick a strange look as he passed, and since he wasn't sure whether the look indicated pleasure or displeasure with the change, he shrugged it off. In the long run, the only thing that mattered was that his men had been given a position to hold, and hold it they would.

Rick decided to survey the area before his men began to prepare their firing positions. He and Gunny Snyder walked every inch of it, including walking about a hundred meters out into the fields to the north and seeing the position from the enemy's point of view. They paid particular attention to field of fire for each position. With only ten rifles (counting Rick and Gunny Snyder), they could ill afford to have even one of the riflemen be unable to engage the enemy due to some overlooked obstruction.

The most obvious obstruction was the building immediately to the west. It projected about one meter further north than the building they had been assigned. Lieutenant and sergeant held a quick debate on the best deployment, finally agreeing to put one fire team in each building. Rick and Gunny Snyder would reinforce either team if they became hard pressed.

The walls of each building were mortared stone about a half-meter thick. Rick knew that it would take heavy equipment to make loopholes in the walls, so he reluctantly ordered his men to use the existing windows.

However, Corporal Ba proposed that they dry-stack large stones in the openings, thus creating protected loopholes. Rick seized on this idea like it was a winning lottery ticket, and soon all ten Marines were industriously hauling stones from several loose piles that were scattered around the village. By the time they were finished, Rick figured the walls would stop anything the Tigers had with the exception of tank main gun rounds.

Sundown was fast approaching when Rick declared himself satisfied with the defenses, and the rest of the platoon began to prepare places to sleep. Rick found an abandoned wooden box that made a good seat, and cut a branch from a nearby walnut tree to serve as a stylus.

Gunny Snyder found him sitting there, lost in thought, and drawing busily in the dirt. The veteran noncom decided to wait before interrupting, since he was curious about what the young officer was doing. He had worked with Lieutenant Castle long enough to know that he was not just idly doodling, that whatever he was doing boded ill for his country's enemies. The sergeant watched for another minute or so before the answer surfaced in his conscious thought. The lieutenant looked up suddenly, his rumination complete.

"How would you do it, sir?" the Sergeant asked.

"Do what, Gunny?"  
"How would you attack this position? Isn't that what you were thinking about, LT?"

The lieutenant gave a semi-embarrassed chuckle. "Yeah, Gunny, that's exactly what I was doing. I find it helps to highlight weaknesses that might get overlooked otherwise."

"So, how would you do it?"

"The river, Gunny, the river. It's the key to unlocking this whole position. Come with me." He rose and strode to the riverbank, the sergeant following closely. "See, the bank drops vertically with a two- to three-meter drop-off. Then there's maybe a meter of dry ground between the foot of the drop-off and the actual edge of the water."

Rick could almost see the little bulb over the sergeant's head light up. "Damn. Sir, they could march a panzer grenadier division down this river bank and no one would be the wiser!"

"Yep. That's how I would do it, infiltrate a company down the riverbank in the middle of the night. Then launch the main assault down the road at dawn. As soon as the defenders are fully engaged, the infiltrators hit them from the flank and rear."

Sergeant Snyder felt almost light-headed at the thought of being on the receiving end of the attack the lieutenant had described. Not only was it logical, it was almost guaranteed to work if the infiltrators were able to reach their jump-off point without being detected. He said a quick prayer that the Tigers would not have anyone as good as his lieutenant planning the attack.

"Gunny, there's something fishy about this whole deal," the lieutenant suddenly offered without preamble.

"Fishy, sir?"

"Yeah, something here doesn't make sense. The Tigers' MO does not include attacking heavily defended locations. Why are they going after Ludovic, when they have maybe a ten percent chance of succeeding?"

"Maybe they're going to try something sneaky, LT."

"I can't think of anything, other than the river idea. We saw the operations order, and it was basically describing a straightforward advance down the road, right?"

"Yes, sir, that's the way I read it."  
"So the logical conclusion is that the operations order is correct, but the Tigers think they can get away with it. That means there is a shoe that hasn't dropped yet, and we probably aren't going to like it when it does."

"Well, LT, at least we can make sure they don't come down the river bank. Do you want to put a couple of men down by the river?"

"No, Gunny," the young officer responded after mulling the problem over for a couple of seconds. "I want to keep my combat power as concentrated as possible. Do we have any ground flares?"

"Two that I know of."

"Okay, what I want to do is plant all the flares we have along the path attached to trip wires. The tall grass next to the water should conceal them pretty well."

"Good idea, sir. I'll just get Private Bascomb and we'll go down and set up the flares." The sergeant walked away to gather up the flares, and the private. Rick headed for the building where his men were resting. Just as he reached the doorway, he heard footsteps approaching from the south. He instinctively reached down and made sure his sidearm was ready to hand. Soon the footsteps became a figure, a heavily laden figure, it seemed.

"Halt." Rick commanded. The figure stopped abruptly.

"Teniente Castle?"

"Yes?"  
"I brought some food for your men."

"All right, come on in." The figure advanced to where Rick was waiting and set his burden down gratefully.

"I'll be heading back now, Teniente."

"Okay, thanks for the food." Rick picked up the crate and carried it into the building, calling his men together. They shared out the food: crusty bread, several wedges of cheese, and two bottles of Rioja wine.

The men looked shocked when Rick used the corkscrew on his Swiss army knife to open the wine. He looked at them and grinned. "I won't tell anyone if you don't."

They all held out their mess kit cups and he poured each man a healthy slug. Gunny Snyder set up the watch schedule, one man in each building in two-hour shifts, and either he or Rick would be awake at all times. Those not on watch settled in to sleep, and Gunny Snyder volunteered to take the first watch.

The night was uneventful, and dawn found Rick scanning the ridge to the north with his binoculars. He saw nothing suspicious, so he joined his men for the breakfast that had been delivered earlier. The morning passed quickly as the platoon prepared for battle, cleaning and inspecting their weapons and checking each magazine to make sure they fed smoothly.

Rick was in the yard behind the two buildings when the other shoe dropped.

"LT, LT, come quickly." Rick recognized the voice of Corporal Anders, whose fire team held the westernmost building. There was an undertone to the corporal's call that might almost be called panic, so Rick sprinted the short distance to the building and ducked through the low doorway.

"What is it, Anders?"

The corporal just pointed to a loophole that faced northwest. Rick knelt to look through and saw disaster. The Spaniards were leaving their prepared fighting positions and marching south through the village.

"You guys just sit tight for a few minutes," Rick ordered. "I'm going to find Commandante Gutierrez and find out what the hell is going on." He sprinted west to the main road and turned south, where he found the commandante hurrying towards him.

"Teniente Castle, I was on my way to tell you to pull your men out." The commandante looked like a man who had just been pulled from the wreckage of a devastating car crash. His normal swarthy complexion was deathly pale, and he refused to meet Rick's gaze, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"Why?"

"Because officers of the Legio España must obey orders, Teniente. As must you also."

"May I ask who gave the order, sir?"

"The order came from the UN High command, but was issued by my brigade commander. I have no choice, Teniente. Now you should move your men out before my troops clog up the road."

"Sir, we're staying."

"Teniente, you cannot possibly hold this village with only ten men. You will only die to no purpose."

"Perhaps, sir, but I do know one thing; Arkan's Tigers will know they've been in a fight."

"Very well, Teniente, your unit is not mentioned in the order, so you're free to do what you believe your duty demands."

The commandante turned to walk away, but turned back after he'd only taken a single step. "Teniente, this day will be a stain on the honor of the Legio España that will never be erased, but I would not have it said that we slipped away without doing anything to help. We have gathered all of the mines that we had emplaced. They are in the village square, and I will leave them for your use. In addition, I will leave some light antitank weapons.

"Thank you, sir. They will be most welcome."

"Goodbye, Teniente…and good hunting."

The commandante strode away toward where his troops waited in their vehicles. Rick noted that none of the vehicles displayed the national colors, as if anonymity would somehow make the betrayal less damning.

Three men walked out into the main road and stood, staring down the road toward the retreating Spaniards. Rick recognized them as the village council. They turned as he approached, and their faces show a wrenching hopefulness that Rick was not sure was justified.

Rick didn't speak Bosnian, but the leader of the three, the village headman, spoke Russian, and Rick, on the strength of four semesters of Russian at MIT, could communicate up to a point. It took him ten minutes of strenuous discussion to convince the council that the Marines could not defend the village, and that the only hope was to evacuate the population to the south. The Marines would try to hold back the Tigers long enough for the villagers to escape.

Rick looked at his watch. 09:17. Not much time to do all that needed to be done. He hurried back up the road and turned off toward the river. When he arrived at the buildings where his men were stationed, he found them waiting expectantly, confusion and consternation written on their faces.

Gunny Snyder as usual spoke for the group. "What are we going to do, LT?"

"We're going to fight, but beyond that, I don't know. I need to think." Rick sat on the same crate that he had used the night before, and removed his helmet. He put his head in his hands and braced his elbows on his knees. He took deep slow breaths, trying to force his brain to focus instead of jumping randomly from one hare-brained scheme to the next.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there without producing any workable ideas, so he stole a glance at his watch.09:43. The date display caught his attention for some reason. He stared at it for a few seconds, and the swirling strands of thought started to coalesce around the date: 25 October. He struggled with the date. What was significant about that date?

Rick was not Catholic, or even particularly religious, but the answer came—October 25, The Feast Day of St. Crispin. How did he even know that? Clarity suddenly came, what in years to come he would jokingly call a blinding flash of light. Agincourt … 25 October was the anniversary of the Battle of Agincourt.

Pieces began to fall into place, and a plan emerged, Rick mentally wargamed the plan and a smile appeared, the kind of smile that the leader of a wolf pack might have worn when preparing to defend against an attack by a skulk of foxes. He sat up suddenly, and the predatory grin heartened his men. He motioned to them to gather around and he took his jimmied-up stylus from the night before and began to draw in the dust.

The village of Ludovic occupied a flat plain defined by a small mountain range to the west, and a river to the east. A main road ran north-south through the center of the village. The road north of the village was paved, but the surface turned to cobblestone as it entered the village, then becoming packed dirt and gravel as it continued south.

The houses and other buildings that constituted the village backed up hard against the lower slope of the mountains. The slopes consisted mostly of jumbled boulders and scree, with a few scattered clumps of spruce and birch. The village extended to the east about 400 meters, right to the riverbank.

In the north-south direction, Ludovic occupied about 200 meters of the riverbank. North of the village was a strip of pastureland that stretched about 800 meters to a low ridge that marked the northern boundary of the land owned by the village. Here, the river ran more or less parallel to the mountains.

South of the village, the topography was more interesting, as well as being a critical component of Rick's plan. The river curved gradually toward the west for 400 meters, then bent even more sharply in that direction, so that the river was running almost perpendicular to the mountains. Then, just as it reached the foot of the mountain, it made a sharp 180-degree bend and flowed back to the east before turning south and flowing more or less parallel to the mountains again.

The area bounded by the village on the north, the river to the east, and mountains to the west, was about 600 meters long and 400 meters wide on the north, tapering down to width of a single-lane road on the south. The first right angle bend was about 400 meters south of the village. The main north/south road crossed the east/west flowing arms of the river via two stone bridges, each about twenty meters long and just wide enough for a single truck.

The flat area was the village's farmland. It was divided into individual plots by rows of stones, which the plows turned up every year, and the farmers got out of their way by the simple expedient of stacking them around the edges of their fields. The stacks were not high enough to provide good cover, even to a prone rifleman.

Rick quickly finished his drawing and addressed his men. "The Spaniards were ordered to pull out, and they're probably gone by now. We obviously cannot defend the village with only ten men, so we have to change plans. "The operations order that we captured makes more sense now. The Tigers obviously knew ahead of time that the Spaniards would be gone. They don't know we're here, though, so they're expecting a nice soft target."

"How do you think they'll play it, LT?" Corporal Bah asked.

"Well, if it was me, I'd send the tanks straight down the road through the village to set up a blocking position south of it. Then it's just a matter of moving the infantry in and mopping up."

"How're we going to stop them, LT?" Sergeant Snyder provided the perfect lead-in.

"We're not going to try to defend the village; we're going to protect the people. The villagers are evacuating down the road to the south, and if we can hold the Tigers long enough to give them a head start, then most of them should be able to escape."

He paused for a second and his men leaned forward, faces intent on his words, trusting that he had a plan. "Here's what we're going to do. The first order of business is to deal with the tanks. We have three antitank mines. Gunny Snyder and Private Bascomb will emplace those mines, here, here and here." He designated the locations on his diagram, the main road with one mine at the exit from the village, one in the center of the village, and one where the road entered the village. "Set the southernmost mine to detonate on the first trigger, the middle one on the second trigger, and the last one to detonate on the third trigger. Hopefully, that will snarl the tanks up in the village, and keep them out of our hair.

"Just in case one or more gets through, I want Corporal Bah and Private Pederson up on the slope with the C-90s the Legion left behind. Get high enough that you have good plunging fire opportunities on the tanks. The only way you'll be able to knock out the tanks with the C-90 is to hit the top of the rear deck where the fuel tanks are located."

Corporal Bah nodded his understanding, and Rick held his gaze as he continued. "Corporal, when you pick up the C-90s, I want you to also pick up three of the claymores. Set up two of them on the second line of rocks, and one on the third. Run the wire to your position on the slope."

"Got it, LT." The corporal nodded his understanding.  
Rick shifted his attention to Sergeant Snyder. "Gunny, after you and Bascomb finish with the anti-tank mines, gather up the rest of the claymores and place three of them east of the road, the same as what Corporal Bah is doing on the west side. The remaining two I want you to place next to the river facing in. Run the wires to the riverbank."

"Okay, LT. We'll take care of it.'

"Now, here's where it gets interesting," Rick continued.

He used the stick to draw a backwards L, with the long side of the L running along the riverbank from the village down to the bend and the short leg from the bend over to the mountainside.

"The river is our ace in the hole. The banks provide cover, and we can shift positions quickly. That way they won't be able to bring suppressive fire on any one position."

"LT, it looks like an L ambush, just like in the manual," the gunny pointed out.

"Yeah, it does," Rick agreed. "But ironically, I got the idea from the date." The platoon looked at him with a combination of puzzlement and concern that their leader was cracking under the pressure.

Rick chuckled. "Let me finish the briefing, and I'll explain it if you're interested."

"Can't wait," the gunny said.

"Me, either," Corporal Bah chimed in. The rest of the platoon just nodded emphatically.

"Okay, Corporal Anders, I want your team and the rest of Corporal Bah's team to start at the first row of stones and cut firing steps into the bank, down to and around the bend. Try to put one at least every five meters or so. Corporal Anders' team will hold the east/west leg of the L. The north/south leg of the L will be held by me, the gunny, and the rest of Corporal Bah's team. No matter which way they turn, one leg of the L will have enfilade fire. Any questions? No? Then let's get after it."

Gunny Snyder coughed discreetly. When Rick turned to him, he reminded his leader, "The date thing, LT. We're all curious."

"Oh yeah. Today is the feast day of Saint Crispin."

"And?" the gunny prompted.  
"It's also the anniversary of the battle of Agincourt." He continued to give a brief synopsis of the battle, the platoon listening with rapt attention, quickly drawing parallels to their current situation: the horrendous odds, the reliance on the accuracy and firepower of the English longbows, and King Henry's brilliant leadership.

Rick continued. "The morning of the battle, King Henry called his men together and gave them a pep talk. I think it has to be one of the greatest pep talks in history."

"What did he say, LT?"

"Yeah, what did he say?"

Rick grinned at their enthusiasm, "We don't have time for the whole speech, but I'll quote a little bit of it, and you'll get the idea." This day is call'd the feast of Crispian:  
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,  
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,  
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.  
He that shall live this day, and see old age,  
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,  
And say, 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian:'  
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars.  
And say, 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'

The platoon sat enthralled until Rick broke the spell. "Let's get after it; we've got a lot to do before our guests arrive."

They scattered to carry out their assigned tasks, while Rick moved carefully to the northern outskirts of the village and gazed intently to the north, hoping that the Tigers would give them time to complete their preparations.

Gunny Snyder found him there and reported, "All set, LT."

Rick checked his watch, 11:22, just in time. At 11:37, the BRDMs showed up and Gunny Snyder left to make sure everyone was in position and ready to rock. Rick continued to observe until the first tank clanked over the ridge and headed straight down the road towards the village. He said a brief prayer of thanks that they seemed to be playing it the way he had predicted, and maybe this wouldn't be a total disaster after all. There was no good reason to hang around, so he moved carefully, staying in cover until he reached the southern edge of the village.

Damn, the area south of the village was still full of villagers trying to get across the two bridges, which were proving to be a significant bottleneck. The problem was exacerbated by the fact that a number of the villagers were pushing or pulling carts containing their meager belongings.

Rick spotted the headman and sprinted to him, demanding that he get his people moving. Rick heard the unmistakable sound of a tank gun firing, and he ducked involuntarily as the shell passed over with a sound like the rumbling of a freight train passing. The shell exploded about 100 meters south of where Rick was standing, knocking a dozen or more of the villagers to the ground with wounds ranging from serious to fatal. The first tank had apparently spotted the escaping villagers and fired before it got to the edge of the village.

After one last entreaty to the headman to hurry his people along, Rick turned and sprinted to the riverbank, jumped over the edge, and ran north along the edge of the water to his first firing position, about fifty meters south of the village. The tank fired again and Rick risked a look over the edge, cursing as he saw another scatter of bodies.

The tank reached the edge of the village. BOOM, and the tank itself disappeared in a cloud of dust. Rick pounded his fist on the bank, Yes! The tank had hit their mine.

The dust and smoke cleared quickly, the tank had lost its left track and slewed hard left. The rear deck was now exposed, and the Marines on the slope fired a volley of C-90 rockets. Both hit and the fuel tanks exploded with a WHUMP. The hatches were flung open and the crew bailed out, fading quickly back into the village. Rick let them go; he had bigger flounders to fry.

BOOM! Got another one, Rick exulted. Then the Tiger Infantry arrived at the edge of the village, having searched and found it deserted. Their frustration level was high, and the sight of their intended victims escaping enraged them. A guttural shout full of hatred and bloodlust rang out and twenty or so men broke away and pounded down the road toward the refuges.

Rick lifted his carbine, sighted carefully, and squeezed off a shot, grunting in satisfaction when his target pitched forward and fell boneless by the side of the road. His platoon had been waiting for him to fire, and they immediately opened up, firing single-aimed shots and making them count.

The Tiger infantry must have felt as if they had stumbled into a hornet's nest, except that these hornets were 62 grain, cupro-nickel jacketed, lead and steel-cored hornets delivering death at 3500 feet per second. None of that group got off a shot at the refugees, and none made it back to the village alive.

The Tigers' commander brought forward two full companies, more than two hundred men, placing one company to the east of the road and one to the west. They shook themselves out into deep skirmish lines and started forward, slowly and inexorably, confident in their power and numbers.

Rick knew this was the big push. If his men could hold them here, the worst would be over. Rick took another quick look and saw that the Tigers had halted their advance, many of them pointing to the south.

Pivoting around to see what they were looking at, he felt a rush of adrenaline when he saw the Stars and Stripes flying proudly near the bend in the river. Corporal Anders had evidently figured that the Tigers might as well know who was killing them, so he planted Rick's flag on the riverbank. Rick mentally smacked himself on the forehead, I shoulda thought of that!

He turned back to the Tigers, who had started forward again. "You're hunting with the big dog now, you bastards," he muttered under his breath. The Tigers reached the first line of piled stones and slowed to scramble over it, bunching up a bit at the obstacle.

This was what Rick had been waiting for, and he triggered the two claymores hidden in the second row of stones. In one fell stroke, an organized company of 100 became a mob of sixty. Corporal Bah followed Rick's lead with similar results on the west side of the road.

Rick shifted position to the next firing step to the south, popped up and started firing. The rest of the platoon followed suit, and the deadly hornets struck again and again. Shaka Zulu's Impis or Caesar's legions might have continued the advance in spite of the heavy fire they were receiving, but there was a fundamental difference at play. Shaka's Impis and Caesar's legions were warriors, and the Tigers were armed bullies. They broke, scrambling back to the shelter of the village. A deathly quiet settled over the field, broken only by the groans and cries of the wounded and dying.

Gunny Snyder ran up to Rick's position. "Hey, LT, who's the hard-ass over there?" Rick looked at him quizzically, but the gunny just pointed toward the village. Slinging his carbine, Rick extracted his binoculars and focused on the village. The hard-ass gunny Snyder was talking about wasn't difficult to pick out. A tall man in an unfamiliar uniform was striding back and forth, kicking, punching, and dragging the men back into line for another attack.

When he focused on the other man's face, Rick sucked in his breath. He didn't scare easily, but this man's face was frightening, the personification of evil. The kind of face that made you want to drive a stake through his heart. Rick finally got a good look at the patch on the man's right shoulder. Yugoslav People's Army.

Rick dropped back below the edge and addressed the gunny. "I think he's either an advisor or an observer from the Yugoslav People's Army. That is one scary dude."

Gunny Snyder nodded in acknowledgment. "You think they'll try again, LT?

"Yeah, Gunny, I do. How's your ammo?"

"One full mag and a partial."

"Me, too." Rick offered. "That actually worries me more than whether they come again."

"Yeah, have to make every shot count. I'll be heading back LT, good luck." He trotted back down the river to his firing position.

Rick hazarded another look over the edge and his gut clenched. Someone on the Tiger side had decided to be smart. They had brought forward their remaining two fresh companies and were orienting on the riverbank, approximately where Gunny Snyder held his position. It looked like they were going to use the remnants of the other two companies to screen the right flank of the assault. This would protect the main assault from enfilade fire by Corporal Anders' team and isolate the four Marines holding the long arm of the L. It also meant that the two claymores Rick had placed on the riverbank were totally out of position and essentially useless. Without the claymores, we're dead, he thought, so he tugged on the wires until the legs pulled out of the ground, and he reeled in the two plastic blocks, gathered them into his arms, and ran for Gunny Snyder's position.

The Gunny was peeking over the edge. "Here they come, LT!"

Rick stole a quick glance over the edge. The Tiger infantry was advancing, but very slowly. I have a bad feeling about this, he thought.

A flicker of motion at the edge of the village drew his attention, and he shifted his gaze just in time to see the third tank crash through the walls of a house and rumble forward, just east of the road.

The Tigers' plan was obvious; they would use the tank to spearhead their assault. Its main gun and machine guns would sweep the riverbank to keep the Marines pinned down and allow the infantry to reach the bank. Once established there, they would flank Rick's line and roll it up.

Correction, I have a very bad feeling about this. A volley of C-90s was fired, and both hit, but the tank just shrugged them off and kept coming. The Marines hunkered down below the bank, and the tank halted about forty meters from Rick's position, its turret sweeping from side to side searching for targets.

With that tank there, there's nothing more we can do here. It's time to go. "Gunny…," he started to give the order to withdraw, but a movement, a spot of color on the otherwise drab field drew his attention, and the command died unuttered.

A young woman, no more than a teenager, was crawling frantically to get away from the tank. From the way one leg was dragging uselessly along the ground, it was obvious she had been injured. Probably shrapnel from that first tank round. The girl had a bundle that she was struggling to hold up off the ground, and Rick heard the high-pitched screams of a terrified infant. The sight froze him for an instant, until the tank began to move and turned slightly toward the girl.

In one sick, horrible moment, he realized the tank commander's intent. "Nnnooo," he screamed, and an icy calm settled over him. He turned quickly to Gunny Snyder. "Give me your thermite grenade!"

"Sir...?"

"Give me the damn grenade!"

The sergeant wordlessly unclipped the purple cylinder from his webbing and passed it up to Rick, who clipped it to his belt. Then, in a bound, he was gone, leaving his carbine behind.

The gunny jumped up on the just-vacated firing step, and saw his lieutenant running like an Olympic sprinter, already halfway to the tank. Rick overtook the tank and with a leap, locked his arms around the main gun barrel, using his momentum to swing his legs onto the glacis plate. From there it was a simple matter for him to shimmy hand over hand down the barrel until he was able to grab a handhold and pull himself onto the hull.

The commander's hatch was closed, but the smaller gunner's hatch was still open. As Rick straightened up to climb onto the turret, a hand reached up from inside to close the hatch, and he moved with the speed of a striking rattlesnake, drawing his sidearm and double tapping the hand.

A muffled scream of agony sounded from within the turret, and Rick snatched the thermite grenade from his belt. He pulled the pin, and stretched up to drop the grenade into the open hatch. The impact on his right side felt like he had been hit by the mother of all baseball bats. His vest prevented the bullet from penetrating, but the residual energy had to go somewhere, and a sudden stab of pain indicated that several ribs had shattered. He staggered, almost losing his balance.

The grenade flew from his suddenly nerveless fingers and skittered around the turret like a drop of water on a hot griddle. Several desperate grabs came up empty, but one last despairing sweep of his arm propelled the cylinder toward the open hatch cover, where it caromed off and dropped into the turret.

Rick tensed to leap off the tank, but a smashing impact to the back of his head pitched him off. He did a half somersault in the air and landed on his back, unconscious.

Gunny Snyder saw his lieutenant hit the ground and lie motionless. Then the tank seemed to come apart at the seams. The thermite grenade had clearly ignited the on-board ammunition, and the turret was lifted off by the blast, crashing back to earth and almost crushing Rick.

The advancing Tigers were only about 150 meters from where Rick had fallen, and the Gunny was suddenly determined that those animals were not going to get their hands on Lieutenant Castle.

He scrambled over the edge, grabbing Rick's carbine and dashed to the side of the prostrate Marine. He felt for a pulse, and breathed a sigh of relief; the lieutenant was still alive, his pulse weak but steady.

The Gunny's action caused an entirely unforeseen reaction. Privates Bascomb and Sherling, the next two men in line, suddenly left cover and joined the Sergeant. Gunny Snyder immediately sent Bascomb to retrieve the two claymores that Rick had salvaged. Private Sherling took cover behind the turret and started firing, precise aimed shots, but woefully inadequate to stop the tidal wave of foes bearing down on them with blood in their eyes.

Rick groaned and opened his eyes, feeling like a chain gang was using picks and a sledge on the back of his head, and some sadistic cowboy was applying a branding iron to his right side. Gunny Snyder helped him sit up and leaned him back against a road wheel of the burned out tank. "Can you stand, sir?"

"No, Gunny." Rick coughed, wincing in pain as a thin trickle of blood escaped from the corner of his mouth. "I think one of the ribs punctured a lung. If I move around it might collapse."

"What's the plan, LT?

"Too late for plans, Gunny; there's only one option now."

The veteran sergeant looked at his young charge sadly, knowing he was going to say that the only option was to surrender.

"What's that, sir?"

Rick gave him a rather pained version of his trademark grin. "We fight, Gunny. We fight like demons and hope the God of battles smiles on us."

Private Bascomb returned with the claymores, and the gunny directed him to set them out. No one knew what triggered it, but Corporal Anders suddenly clambered over the bank, snatched up the flag and ran toward the small group at the burnt-out tank. His example was contagious, and the rest of his team quickly followed, only pausing to gather up the injured girl and her baby and deposit them next to Rick.

The girl was trembling so hard that Rick feared for the baby. He held out his arms, in offer of help, but the girl shook her head vehemently. He held her gaze for a few seconds and she relented and handed the infant to him. He carefully shifted the baby to his left arm, sparing his injured ribs. Amazingly, the baby quieted, and Rick exchanged a smile with the mother.

"Gunny?"

"Yes sir?"

"I want to go for the maximum shock effect. Fire the claymores at fifty meters and tell the men to hold their fire until the claymores go off, then pour it on.

"Yes, sir. Won't be long now." Private Bascomb suddenly called out, "Party in five….three, two, one…" BOOM. Both claymores went off together, and 2000 steel spheres the size of peas went screaming across the Bosnian landscape at 1200 meters per second.

The devastation they wrought was horrendous. Fifty-three of the attackers were killed outright, and at least half of the remainder were wounded. The Marines rose up and poured a withering fire into the ranks of the Tigers, but the enemy still didn't break, and one after another the bolts of the Marines' carbines locked open, ammunition exhausted.

Somehow, Rick found the strength to issue the command, "Marines! ….Fix….Bayonets!" He fell back against the road wheel with a grin. "I always wanted to say that," he told the young mother cowering behind his broad torso. She didn't understand a word he said, but she returned his smile.

The oncoming wave swirled around the tank hulk and the overturned turret. The Marines met them with cold steel. Bayonet blades dripped gore as they cut, parried, and thrust.

But they couldn't hold them forever, any more than a determined porcupine can ultimately resist an enraged grizzly. Marines began to go down, and the enemy grew bolder, sensing the kill.

Rick had eleven rounds in his Beretta and an extra magazine; being a Castle, that pretty much meant two dozen dead enemies. Even shooting one-handed, because he still had the baby, he didn't miss a single shot, and soon there was a bulwark of bodies piled around him and the girl. Then the slide on his Beretta locked open. He let the weapon drop into the dirt beside him. It was over.

The high-pitched whistle startled him. Incoming! his battered brain screamed, and a shell exploded just on the other side of the turret. Mortars! And heavy ones too! That first shell was followed by a veritable torrent.

That broke the Tigers, and as one man they turned and ran for the village. New sounds were distinguishable, the roar of engines and the dut-dut-dut of an autocannon.

Rick's vision was starting to gray out at the edges, and he suddenly felt cold all over. A six-wheeled APC braked to a halt not ten meters away. Rick could see that it was flying the flag of Spain, and he grinned; the God of battles had indeed smiled on his Marines.

His vision had almost completely grayed out when he felt a person kneeling by his side. He recognized the voice of Commandante Gutierrez. "I'm sorry Teniente. I'm sorry we couldn't come sooner."

Rick just smiled, with his last conscious act, he spoke softly, "Santiago y a ellos," the battle cry of the conquistadors and the ancient Spanish armies that were the terror of European battlefields for centuries: Saint James and at them.

The commandante had tears in his eyes as he remounted his APC to press the pursuit.  



	87. Chapter 87

Flight to Baltimore Wednesday November 9

Rick and Kate walked hand in hand from the town car which had delivered them to the terminal at Tampa Executive Airport. Kate recognized the blue and gold livery of the Orion Institute on the sleek jet waiting for them at Gate number one. Their bags were being loaded aft as they mounted the boarding steps. The Pilot and co-pilot were waiting at the open hatch and the pilot greeted Rick with a snappy salute followed by a handshake.

"Good morning Dr. Castle," she said, "Nice to have you flying with us this morning."

"Nice to see you Desiree, How's Mike and the kids?"

"Real good now that Mike is stationed at Hurlbut Field, he's home most weekends."

"Still flying the Combat Talon?" Rick asked with genuine interest.

"For now, he's applied to transfer to Spectres."

"Oooh, cool." Kate almost laughed at the way Rick's eyes lit up.

"Desiree Reynolds," the pilot offered her hand to Kate who answered with a firm grip.

"Kate Beckett, pleased to meet you Captain." Rick introduced Kate to the co-pilot and they walked aft to take their seats in the rear of the cabin, one on each side.

"There's no flight attendant," Kate observed.

Rick grinned, "That's my job, we don't usually fly with an attendant unless we're trying to impress a potential customer or something."

"Isn't it a little unusual," Kate asked.

"I suppose," he shrugged, "I don't want my executives to get delusions that they're some kind of Oriental potentate." He gave her a provocative grin, "So, coffee, tea or m-?"

"None of the above," Kate interrupted, blushing. "Water will be fine."

Rick arose and strode forward to the galley. He returned shortly with bottle of Pellegrino, glistening with condensation and sporting a wedge of lime. Kate accepted the beverage with a bit of a distracted smile.

"You have that look," Rick observed.

"She glanced at him with a puzzled frown. "What look is that? And why are you watching me anyway?

"The 'I'm thinking at warp speed look', and watching you is my third favorite activity."

"That's kind of creepy". In a sweet/creepy way.

"You'll get used to it."

"What do you mean third favorite, who do you like watching more than me?"

"No one, my first two favorite activities don't involve watching, they're more—what you might say—hands on."

"And those would be what?" with a semi-glare.

"Well number two favorite thing is kissing you, and number one; well that hasn't actually happened yet"

Kate shook her head, "So your number one favorite thing, you haven't actually done yet? How do you know it's your favorite?"

"I have confidence in you."

"In me? Oh…You're impossible." She sighed resignedly, then grinned. "I haven't actually done my number one thing either."

Rick chuckled delightedly. "So what was the other question?"

Do you know what happened to the girl and the baby that you saved from the tank?"

"Oh, yeah," Rick's smile made Kate wonder whether she really wanted to know, but he continued unbidden. "The rest of her family was killed in the explosion when she was wounded, and no one in the village wanted them. She told me later that she and the baby were outcasts because the baby's father was a Serb who had raped her. Anyway, we took them back to our base with us. To make a long story short, my colonel and his wife decided to adopt the girl, she got a scholarship to Juilliard, worked her butt off for fifteen years and the rest is history."

"That's incredible, where is she now?"

"If I tell you her name, you'll know."

"Okay, you, what's her name?"

"Katerina Jackson."

Kate racked her brain for a second, and then it clicked. "The conductor of the New York Philharmonic?"

"Yep."

"You never cease to astound me!"

"That's a good thing, right?"

"I guess. I almost hate to ask, but what happened to the baby? Wait…let me guess, the baby is Lady Gaga?"

"Not even close," Rick laughed. "Her name is Natasha Jackson and she's twenty-three, and brilliant, and almost as stunningly beautiful as you are."

Kate rolled her eyes. "And?"

"She works for me; she's one of my interns."

"Aahh, the next Vienna?"

"God, I hope so," Rick responded fervently.

 **Baltimore Johns Hopkins Thursday November 10**

"Ms. Beckett, the doctor will see you now."

Kate gave Rick's hand a squeeze as she stood. "Behave now." She admonished him, knowing he was chafing at not being allowed to accompany her back to the exam room. "They said they'd come and get you once the exam is over, so we can talk to the doctor together, right?"

"Yeah, I just don't like you having to face this without me."

"I know," she gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "They're not going to hurt me Rick, Dr. Santiago is supposed to be the best, right?"

"Yep." She followed the scrub suited nurse down the hall and out of his sight.

Rick Castle could remain absolutely motionless for hours in a fetid swamp as venomous snakes slithered across his legs and biting insects sampled the tenderer parts of his anatomy. Piece of cake, compared to standing in a relatively plush waiting room in one of the world's elite hospitals and waiting for his girlfriend to have minimal risk exam.

He managed to sit for all of four minutes before he had to move. He took a dozen quick steps to the window that looked out over the John's Hopkins campus from the fourth floor of the Sheik Zayed Tower. The view did nothing to quiet the raging anxiety. Get a grip Castle, it's just an exam. He spun abruptly, pacing back toward the reception window. At the last second he talked himself out of asking the receptionist how long it should take and simply spun around, retracing his steps back to the outside window.

By the time he finished his tenth circuit, the other patients in the waiting room were starting to get a little annoyed. One young man, accompanying a very pregnant, equally young woman made a not so discrete remark to a neighbor. Something about "wimps who couldn't handle the pressure." Rick halted abruptly and skewered the fellow with a hard-eyed stare that caused more than one observer to suck in a quick mayhem-anticipating breath. The young man flinched and his eyes went wide as a heavy hand descended on his shoulder almost tumbling him out of the chair. "You're a lucky man, junior."

"How—what do you mean?"

"I don't normally pound people in front of a pregnant woman."

"Er-uh, sorry?"

Rick gave the shoulder under his hand a gentle squeeze that nonetheless conveyed an unmistakable sense of barely restrained power. "Next time turn your brain on before you open your mouth."

"Yyyyessir."

Rick turned to the girl and his demeanor almost instantly recovered its characteristic warmth. "Beg your pardon ma'am, I hope I didn't upset you too much."  
She shook her head wordlessly, and he turned and walked back to the window.

"Mr. Castle," Rick looked up startled, "If you'll follow me, I'll take you to Ms. Beckett." Kate was dressed in an examination gown and lying on the exam table with a light blanket covering her lower body. He walked over and took her hand gently. Her eyes fluttered as if she were trying to wake, and he placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"So you're Laura's baby brother." The speaker was a woman in her mid-forties wearing a starched white lab coat over navy blue scrubs. "I'm Luz Santiago" she added, offering her hand for a shake.

Rick grasped her hand, finding her grip surprisingly strong for a woman not much more physically imposing than Kate. "Younger brother."

"I beg your pardon." She responded with a quizzical lift of one immaculately shaped eyebrow.

"I'm Laura's younger brother, I haven't been a baby in forty years or so."

"I stand corrected," she chuckled as she walked over to check on Kate, who was stirring and her eyes were fluttering as she returned to wakefulness.

"I didn't know you and Laura knew each other personally," Rick said.  
"Oh yes, we interned together at Tulane. The French Quarter still hasn't recovered, from what I'm told."

Rick grinned at the thought of his sister and a much younger Dr. Santiago cutting loose on Bourbon Street. Laura Castle, the strait laced, buttoned up Professor of Neurosurgery had carried her wild child phase well into her twenties and some of Rick's more memorable escapades involved getting his sister out of trouble.

Dr. Santiago picked a cup of ice water off the bedside table and held the straw for Kate to drink. "We had to sedate her to finish the exam." Dr. Santiago offered Rick by way of explanation, "The pain would have been excruciating otherwise. This stuff wears off very quickly; she should be fully alert in a minute or two."

Kate's eyes flew open, "Rick?"

He stepped forward into her line of sight, "I'm here sweetheart."

"Is it over?" she asked shaking her head back and forth as if to break the bonds of the medication. "All done, we're just waiting for you to wake up, so that the good doctor can tell us what she found."

Dr. Santiago reached down and manipulated the controls, raising the head of the bed so that Kate was sitting up. "I think you'll be more comfortable like this," she said, "Normally I would let you get dressed, and I'd present my findings in my office. In this case however, I'm going to do it here for reasons that should be clear when we get into the discussion."

Rick and Kate both nodded their acceptance.

"First, let me say that your injuries are very severe. Frankly I'm surprised that you survived. Your rescue and getting medical attention did not come one millisecond to soon." The doctor paused as if to gather her thoughts and Kate felt her heart rate increase, anticipating the worst. "You had two concerns, one the issue of potential pain and discomfort during intercourse; second whether you might be able to conceive and carry a fetus to full term. I'll deal with the painful intercourse issue first." She picked up a television remote from the bedside table and clicked the flat screen display over the foot of Kate's bed to life. "I was able to get good 3D ultrasound images of Kate's cervix and uterus as well as visual examination using an endoscope. The two images you see on the screen now, are a normal cervix on the right, Kate's on the left. As you can see there is a marked difference. The area shaded in purple represents scar tissue and the three areas shaded in red are granuloses."

"Granu—?" Kate stumbled at the pronunciation of the unfamiliar word.

"Granuloses," the doctor repeated. "Think of them as abnormally dense collections of nerve endings surrounded by a type of scar tissue. The net effect is that those areas are both extremely sensitive and extremely painful if stimulated. Unfortunately, yours are in a location that would likely be contacted repeatedly during intercourse; unless your partner was ridiculously under-equipped, that is."

"No help there," Rick muttered under his breath, but Kate smacked him on the arm anyway.

"Is there anything you can do?" Kate asked hopefully.

"I believe so," Dr. Santiago answered carefully. "We've been experimenting with computer guided laser surgery for over a year now. We've had a reasonably good success rate in situations somewhat similar to this, not as severe of course."

"What do you mean by reasonably good?" Rick asked.

"Three out of four chance that Kate would be able to enjoy a normal sex life." The doctor stated confidently.

"When could you do it?" Kate asked.

The doctor smiled, "Actually, I can do it now if you're ready. That's why I kept you in here. Should take about an hour and then an hour or so in recovery. If everything goes well, you'll be able to go home tonight."

Kate and Rick exchanged glances, "Okay, let's do it." She said.

"Let me go get the ball rolling," Doctor Santiago replied, "Then I'll be back and we'll discuss the other issue." She bustled out leaving Rick and Kate alone.

"Are you okay?" Kate turned to Rick, "With me having the surgery, I mean."

"Yeah, but it's your body sweetheart, your decision." He paused for a moment, "But I'd support you no matter what the decision was."

"I know," she replied. She did know, and that knowledge was the new bedrock on which she would build her life.

Doctor Santiago knocked discretely on the door, and entered the room. "They'll be ready for you in a few minutes," She addressed Kate, "Now concerning the other issue, I'm afraid the news is not so positive." Rick felt Kate's grip on his hand clench painfully.. "How long has it been since your last period?"

"Six months."

"Do you have a regular cycle?"

"No, it's very irregular. It's been as short as six weeks, and as long as eleven months."

"Okay, that fits." She nodded, "Kate, you have a significant amount of scar tissue in your uterus. In fact, there is more scar tissue than normal tissue. Given that, I would say your chances of conceiving a child are no better than five percent. And in the event that you were able to conceive, the odds of carrying to term and delivering at no better than five percent."

"Can the scar tissue be removed?" Rick managed to ask, his voice gravelly.  
"Yes and no," the doctor replied, "it could be removed, but the underlying tissue would still not be normal. Also, scar tissue tends to grow back."

Kate sat silent, barely aware of the discussion going on between Rick and Dr. Santiago. She had known for many years that she would likely never have children of her own, but it had never seemed all that important. Till today. Till she stood with the man who could and would give her the children she wanted so desperately, and heard the deadly words. Five percent of five percent. In other words, slim to none. No, there had to be some mistake, it couldn't be that bad, could it?

There was another light knock and two OR techs entered with a gurney. They quickly transferred Kate to the gurney, pausing for a second as Rick gave her a quick kiss, then rolling out of the room and down the hall toward the OR. A nurse intercepted Rick when he attempted to follow. "If you'll follow me Mr. Castle, I'll show you to the surgical waiting room."

"Okay," he agreed reluctantly.

Sixty-seven minutes (he timed it), fifty-three games of Angry Birds and twelve (mostly women's) magazines later, Dr; Santiago strode into the waiting room. Rick relaxed marginally when he saw that she was smiling.

"Mr. Castle-"

"Rick," he interrupted.

"Rick, Kate came through the surgery just fine. There may be some residual discomfort for a few days, but nothing that would require heavy pain-killers. If you can though, I would not recommend traveling until tomorrow."

"Not a problem, Doctor. We had planned to stay the night and fly back tomorrow. Anything special I need to do for her."  
"No, just keep her comfortable." The doctor grinned wickedly, "And no strenuous exercise for three weeks."

"Er—no ma'am, three weeks, got it."

"Follow me, I'll take you to Kate."

Rick followed the doctor to the recovery room, noting that Kate was still asleep. He grasped her hand reveling in the strong and steady pulse he felt through his fingertips.

Kate awoke rather abruptly. Her eyes flew open and her mind whirled dizzyingly for a moment as she tried to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings. A figure moved into her line of sight and she smiled. "Rick."

"Hey, sweetheart. You're doing great, so just relax."

"Did they get them all?" he could see the slightest tremor in her lips as she asked the question of the hour.

"Yep, Dr. Santiago said the surgery went very well."

A ghost of a smile broke out, "Good." Then she grimaced slightly.

"Are you in pain?" Rick of course noticed the slightest change in her expression.

"A little, but it's not too bad. I can handle it."

He picked up a plastic cup containing two capsules. "Dr. Santiago said to take this when you woke up. It'll help with the pain."

Kate held up her hands and shook her head vehemently. "I don't like drugs."

"It's just Tylenol with a little codeine. Nothing heavy. You don't have to be a hero you know."

"No!"

He gave her his "lost puppy" look, the one she'd never been able to resist.

"Okay," she grumped, "Give it to me, I'll take it."

The doctor knocked and entered. "How are you feeling"

"Not too bad." Kate replied.

"A little discomfort?"

"Yeah, a little."

"That's normal, should go away in a couple of days. In the meantime, don't be too proud to take the pain medicine I prescribed."

"Any physical restrictions?"

"As I told Mr. Castle, no sex for three weeks. Other than that, if it's not causing discomfort, then it's fine."

A nurse entered with a wheelchair, and Kate's discharge papers. "If you'll step outside sir, I'll help Ms. Beckett to get dressed, and then we can take her out."

"Okay," Rick agreed and left to stand just outside the room. In a few minutes the nurse rolled Kate out and Rick followed along as they rolled down the corridor and into the waiting room. It didn't take long to realize what a grave error it was to go out through the waiting room.

Kate choked back a sob, and he realized that at least half of the people in the room were carrying infants. A little girl, maybe two years old, toddled over to Kate.

"My names Anna, what's yours?" she asked looking up.

Kate screamed, a cry of pure anguish and bolted from the wheelchair. She was out the door and running down the corridor toward the elevators before Rick could react. He saw Kate push through the door to the stairwell and pounded after her. Rick burst into the stairwell and stopped to listen. Did she go up or down?

A faint sound drew him down, and he found Kate on the landing for the floor below. She was sitting on the floor, her knees drawn up to her chest and clasped tightly by her arms. Rick went to his knees next to her, the soft keening sound she was making tore at his heart like nothing in recent memory.

"Kate, what is it? What's wrong?" He reached out gently to place his hand on her upper arm, causing her to flail her arms violently, keeping him away. Her feet scrabbled rapidly forcing her back into a corner. Her eyes stared unseeing past his shoulder and she moaned over and over,

"Please, no, don't hurt me"

Damn, he suddenly knew with a crushing certainty what was going on. Kate was having a flashback, probably to the kidnapping. He reached out once more, only to have his hand smacked away with enough force that he grunted in pain. Damn woman packs a punch. He rocked back on his heels for a moment considering his options. While he knew he could overpower her physically and carry her out, he would have to use enough force that there was a measurable risk of injuring her in the process; which didn't appeal to him at all. Not to mention that Kate was a feisty one and even in her fugue state, she could be counted on to get in some good licks.

Just waiting for her to come out of it didn't appeal to him either, who knows how long it might last and what additional damage she might suffer emotionally in the interim. No, he needed to figure out a way to bring her out of it. He spoke to her softly, "Kate it's me, it's Rick, can you talk to me sweetheart?

Kate shook her head violently, "No, don't touch me go away."

Rick flinched at her words, striking his heart like the flint spearhead of a Neolithic hunter. Is she blaming me for this? He leaned forward, trying to make eye contact. "Kate, please look at me sweetheart, it's going to be okay."

Kate closed her eyes and bone deep sobs racked her body. "Help me please." Blinding flash of light. "Kate, this is Paladin 6. I need to get you out of here."

Her eyes flew open and she met his gaze for the first time. "Paladin?"

Suddenly she was in his arms and he crushed her against his chest. He felt the scald of tears soaking his shirt. "Kate I'm taking you out of here, is that all right?"

She answered with a short choppy nod. He stood, scooping her up and carrying her bridal style, he carried her down the remaining two flights of stairs and out to where the car service town car was waiting. "Four Seasons Hotel," he instructed the driver. The short drive to the hotel was silent, Kate huddled against the door and gazing out the window.

When they entered their room, she headed directly for the bedroom. "I'm going to take a shower." She said, closing the door behind her.

Rick plopped down on the couch. She's still freaked out by something, I wish I knew what. I don't like this distant Kate. #  
Kate stripped and stepped into the shower. Rick must hate me now. Now he knows for sure that I'll never be able to give him children. What am I going to do? I don't think I can live without him. But I couldn't blame him if he left. Yeah, maybe we can have sex but what's the point?

She finished her shower, slipped on the pair of silk pajamas Rick had bought her for the trip and opened the door into the sitting room. Rick was sitting on the sofa, head thrown back and eyes closed. He opened them as she approached regarding her gravely.

"Kate, we need to talk."

Oh crap, he's going to break up with me. A tear trailed down her cheek. "Okay."

He waved her to the couch and she took a seat at one end. "Can you explain what happened at the hospital, you had a flashback didn't you?"

"Yes, the kidnapping."

"What triggered it?"

"I saw all those women in the waiting room with their babies and I knew I'd never have that opportunity. Then that little girl came over and I -" she wiped away another tear away. "I looked into her eyes and they were hazel, just like mine. "I saw her Rick, our daughter, she had my eyes and she was beautiful. I saw our son, strong and brave. Then they just disappeared, never to be. Then I was back to the kidnapping." She could see the pain in his eyes and he swallowed hard. Here it comes.

"Have you ever done that before?" he asked.

"No."

"What was different about today, you've seen babies before."

"I never had a potential father before."

"Oh."

"It's all right Rick I understand."

"Huh, what do you understand?"

"That you're leaving me," she choked on the words. The shocked look on his face almost gave her hope. He's probably just shocked that I brought it up first.

"Kate, where did you get that idea?"

"Stands to reason, you want kids, I can't give them to you."

"Kate, I'm not leaving you. We both want kids, but that's not a deal-breaker, at least as far as I'm concerned."

"It's not?"

"No, of course not. I love you just like you are. You've ruined me, there'll never be another woman for me. Girl you're it." He reached out and tugged her onto his lap.

"You're sure" "Kate Beckett, I've been accused of a lot of things, but I've never been accused of being wishy-washy. I'm sure, as sure as gravity."

"Then shut up and kiss me."

Flight from Baltimore to Tampa Friday November 11

Rick shook Kate awake and she stretched luxuriantly. One of the benefits of being with Rick was you got to stay in hotels with comfortable beds. "What time is it?"

"Eight," he replied, "If we get going, we've got time to go out for breakfast before we have to be at the airport."

"Okay, but this better be good."

"Trust me," he grinned.

"This is it," he stated as the town car pulled up to the glass-fronted restaurant. Miss Shirley's Café. "Best breakfasts on the east coast." He grabbed her by the hand and almost dragged her to the door.

"It must be good if you're this excited." She laughed.

"You have no idea."

The restaurant was simple but elegant and she perused the menu hungrily. "This menu is incredible, how do you pick just one out of this lineup."

"I know, but since we already established you're a French toast girl, I'd recommend the coconut cream-stuffed French toast."

She looked down the menu to the item Rick mentioned and read the description. Her mouth started to water from just reading the description. "Okay, you talked me into it."

Rick ordered the southern slammer sandwich. When their food came Kate eagerly tasted the French toast and almost passed out from serious food ecstasy. "Omigod, Rick this is the most amazing thing I've ever eaten."

"Told ya."

"You shouldn't gloat Rick, it's not attractive.

"Two hours later, the Orion Institute's Gulfstream G450 lifted off and headed south for Florida. Kate leaned her seat back and announced she was going to take a nap. Rick sat across the aisle reading something on his smartphone. After a few minutes, Kate drifted off to sleep and Rick punched speed dial number one.

Vienna answered after the first ring. "Hey, are you on your way back?"

"Yep, just took off."

"How did it go?"

"The surgery went well, but the doctor says there's not much hope for having kids."

"I'm sorry, I know how much that meant to Kate."

"On the way out, she saw the women with babies in the waiting room, and it triggered a flashback."

"Oh no, is she all right?"

"I think so. Vienna I want to-."

"Have Orion work on it?" she finished his sentence for him."

"Have I ever told you that you're kind of scary sometimes?"

"Only about a thousand times," she chuckled.

"Do you have a problem with it?"

"Heck no," she replied. "Kate is part of the family, and we take care of our own."

"Thank you," he replied gratefully. "Can you get Kelley over and call me back so we can discuss it together?" Dr. Kelley Anselm was Orion's Director of Biomedical Research. Vienna had stolen her from Stanford University and she had shown an uncanny ability to back the right horse when it came to research projects. Forty percent of Orion's gross profit was generated by her department.

"Sure, I'll get right back to you."

Rick's phone vibrated and he answered, "Hi Kelley."

"Hello Rick, Vienna already filled me in on the background, what is it you want me to do?

"I want an all out effort to find a solution to infertility due to scar tissue in the uterus.

"Okay, you know your girlfriend is not the only woman to have this problem, and scar tissue in general is a big problem. This could be big."

"That's good to know Kelley, but I don't care. Even if Kate is the only woman to benefit, I still want it done."

"You got it. Resources?"

"Whatever it takes. If it costs ten billion dollars, then that's what it takes."

"Okay Rick, I'll get after it."

"Thanks Kelley." Rick ended the call and looked over to check on Kate. He was startled to see that she was awake. Her eyes were wide and filled with tears."

"You heard that?" he asked gently.

She nodded, temporarily unable to speak. A couple of shallow coughs to clear her throat and she tried again. More or less successfully this time. "You-you-You'd really spend ten b-b-billion dollars so I could have children?"

He nodded emphatically, "Ten times that, if that's what it takes." Her tears came faster, one after another coursing down her cheek to soak her silk blouse. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Rick said looking stricken.

"These are happy tears you ninny," She gave him a brilliant, albeit soggy, smile. Suddenly, she catapulted herself out of her seat and across the aisle. She landed in his lap, straddling his thighs. Cupping his head between her hands, she looked deep into those soulful blue eyes that always made her feel like melting butter. "Rick, no one has ever loved me like that.

If you had asked me a month ago, I'd have said that it wasn't even possible for anyone to love me like that. Yet here we are, and I still can hardly believe it. But I have to, you've proven it over and over in every way possible. I just hope I can make you feel the same way." Then she kissed him until his eyes rolled back in his head. It was the beginning of a 600 mile make out session. The first of many.


	88. Chapter 88

**Tampa Saturday November 12**

Kate's eyes blinked open and she felt a moment of disorientation before she recognized her surroundings. Rick's bedroom, but she knew immediately that she was alone. She rolled onto her side so that she could see the digital clock on her nightstand. 06:47. _I must have been really wiped out last night, I went to bed as soon as we got home last night, but it was just supposed to be a quick nap._

She laid her palm gently across her abdomen, there was no trace of the mild discomfort that had followed her home from the hospital. That was a good sign. Scooping up her robe from the foot of the bed, she slipped it on and padded down the hall toward the kitchen.

Rick was sitting at the island reading something on the screen of his laptop. "Hey beautiful," He looked up as soon as she entered, but his normally unfettered smile seemed a bit subdued.

 _Oh well, he'll tell me when he's ready. Let's focus on what's really important_. "Where's my coffee?" A kiss demonstrated that she wasn't really upset.

Rick slid off the stool and sauntered over to the cappuccino machine. "Everything's set up." He promised as he started the brewing process. "I made myself a cup earlier, but I didn't know how long you would sleep."

"How long have you been up?"

"Around 05:00, woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. How are you feeling, any residual discomfort?"

She hopped up on one of the barstools. "I feel good, no discomfort at all."

"That's good." He handed her a large ceramic mug with her typical vanilla latte.

Taking a sip, she moaned softly, "No one makes my vanilla latte like you do." She informed him between sips. "This is amazing."

"Hungry?"

"Yeah, I'm starving. But, nothing too heavy."

"Gotcha."

"What were you reading when I came in?" Kate inquired as Rick began assembling their breakfast.

"I guess you'd call it an intelligence summary."

"How'd you get an intelligence summary? I didn't know you worked with the intelligence agencies."

He flashed her a mischievous grin, "I don't, they pretty much all hate me."

"I'm not sure I want to know how you got it, I'd probably have to arrest you."

"It's not illegal to develop your own intelligence. We'll talk more about it next week in the Keys."

"Good," Kate smiled "I didn't really want to arrest you today. So what's happening?"

"Remember when we talked about the SCO?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"Well, all the members seem to have a lot of military units scurrying around central Asia." He flipped open the cover of his laptop and turned the screen so she could see it easily. The display was set on a 24-hour continuous loop, so Kate could easily see the truth in Rick's assessment. One particularly large concentration drew her attention; four unit identifiers were clustered between the cities of Grozny and Astrakhan.

"What's this?" She pointed to the obvious concentration, but not recognizing the meanings of the various icons.

"Good eye," Rick approved. He tapped the icon farthest to the west, just outside Grozny. A window popped up, identifying the unit as '1st Shock Army'.

"What's a 'shock army', sounds ominous."

"It is," he nodded. A shock army is a combined arms field army that has been heavily reinforced. A field army usually has four motor rifle brigades and one tank brigade. 1st Shock Army has six motor rifle brigades and two tank brigades. It also has some additional artillery units assigned, but we're not sure yet exactly how much. It's a new formation, the Russians haven't used that designation in a while."

"So why have one now?" Kate mused. "It's not a defensive unit, is it?"

"Give the lady a cookie." Rick grinned. "Shock armies are designed to blow a big hole in a defensive line, so that follow on forces can break out into an enemy's rear. A decisive breakthrough that would likely be a war winner."

"So whose day are they planning on ruining?"

"Look at the map," Rick prompted "Most military questions can be answered with a good map."

"Hmm, okay." Kate tapped her forefinger against her cheek, her tell for strenuous thinking. After a long minute, she shifted her attention from the laptop to Rick. "Okay, they're sitting at the northern end of the Caspian Sea; if they were looking to invade Iran, then they have two choices. They could move down the west side of the Caspian Sea, between it and the Black Sea. Or, alternatively, they could move down the East side of the Caspian Sea between it and the Aral Sea."

"Why did you think Iran would be the target?" He wondered, knowing he hadn't mentioned it.

Kate responded with a shy smile. "Oil of course. I did some research on your laptop while you were asleep Thursday night."

"Why stop with Iran?"

Kate paused, mind weighing the last question Rick posed. "You mean to continue on to….the Persian Gulf?"

"Yes, why not?"

"I can think of a couple of reasons."

"Enlighten me," He grinned.

"They weren't able to conquer Afghanistan and Iran is much larger, more people and a much better military…right?"

"Absolutely. What else?"

"Wellll, Kuwait, Saudi Arabia and the UAE are our allies," Kate noted.

"Suppose this "Czar", whoever he is, was able to take the US off the board and use some of his magic bugs on Iran to soften it up before an invasion?"

Kate turned a little pale at the thought of a whole nation, even if it was an unfriendly one, subjected to chemical and biological attacks on a grand scale. Epidemic was much too mild a word to describe the resulting horror. She couldn't even indulge the time-honored tradition of pretending that no human being could possibly be that evil. Leaving aside the other monsters of history, the "Czar" had already tried twice with biologics in Florida and a nuclear decapitation strike that only failed by the most razor-thin of margins.

"He's going to try again isn't he?"

"Yeah, his kind never gives up, is never defeated." Rick acknowledged with a somber nod. "Either he will be destroyed or he will win. Now, which option would you take? Would you attack west or east of the Caspian Sea?"

"West," Kate answered with some confidence.

"Why?"

"Ummm, shorter distance to Tehran, they can get supplies through the Black Sea?"

"Okay, good guesses. The shorter supply lines is a valid point. But I can almost guarantee that Tehran will be a smoking hole in the ground before the first tank crosses the border. They have no intention of occupying the country, they'll be going after the oilfields which are on the south and southwest coasts."

"What would you do?" Kate questioned, leaning forward subconsciously in anticipation.  
"You asked for it." Rick smiled, delighted.

" I should probably get another latte before you start shouldn't I?"

"Probably, this is a good time to introduce you to a couple more of the principles of war."

Kate quickly prepared her favorite beverage and resumed her seat at the bar. "Okay, let me have it."

"I thought we were going to talk about the principles of war, but if you'd rather…"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Rick, focus."

"Oh yeah, the two principles I want to talk about are 'Mass' and 'Economy of force".

"That seems almost contradictory," Kate observed.

Rick's eyes sparkled in appreciation. "You're right, they are and resolving that issue is one of the most important tasks a commander has. No army can be strong everywhere, so in order to be strong somewhere, a commander has to deliberately choose to be not strong everywhere else."

"Wow, talk about stress."

"It is…very. To apply the principle of mass, the commander must decide what is absolutely critical to either attack or defend and insure that enough force is assigned to accomplish the objective. The commander assembles that main force by using only enough force at non-critical locations to prevent the enemy from exploiting the weakness. That's economy of force."

"Back to my question Mr. Castle, What would you do?"

"I'd attack both sides."

"But," Kate sputtered indignantly, "That's against the rules. You just told me…" She stopped as she noticed the smirk that had appeared. "You're messing with me aren't you."

"No, just checking to see if you were paying attention." He chuckled, dodging the half-hearted swipe she aimed at his arm. "If you look closely at the map, you'll find that other than Turkmenistan, all of the countries on the east side of the Caspian Sea are members of the SCO, which probably means they are under the thumb of the czar. I'd mass my four Russian field Armies and Attack down the west side of the Caspian Sea. At the same time, I'd have the SCO armies attack on the eastward side. If I timed it right, they should be able to draw a significant chunk of the Iranian Army away from my main attack."

"I never thought war was so complicated."

"Mhhh, now you know. Remember, simple in principle, difficult in execution. Let's eat and then if you're up for it I'd like to take you somewhere."

"I feel good, where are we going?"

"It's a surprise,"

"Rick, you know I don't like surprises."

"You will if I'm the surpriser."

Kate groaned theatrically, "Now I'm really worried."

"You wound me Agent Beckett." clasping a hand to his chest theatrically. "I'll have you know, I have a long and distinguished history of successful surprises"

"I bet you do." Kate rolled her eyes. "What should I wear?"

"As little as possible." Rick grinned.

"Rick!"

"Jeans and t-shirt will be fine. Sneakers, not heels."

"Okay." She spooned up the last of her oatmeal and savored the last sip of her latte. "I need to grab a shower. Give me twenty." "If you need your back scrubbed…?"

"I'm sure I can handle it." giving him a mild glare.

"Ooh." feigning chagrin. "Wildly inappropriate mental picture."

"Castle stop it." But noticing the grin fade from his features. "At least for now." The grin blossomed anew.

Rick braked to a stop at a guardhouse, the only break in a twelve-foot high chain-link fence that parallels the road they had just traveled to reach the gate. A relatively small sign that graced the guardhouse - Camp Leatherneck State of Florida No Trespassing - caused Kate a brief stutter of concern. Rick was up to something. She held her questions as one of the two serious looking camo-clad men in the guard house approached Rick's open window. He snapped to attention and sketched a salute so sharp that Kate swore she heard the air sizzle.

"Good day sir, ma'am. May I see some ID please?"

Rick returned the salute and handed over two credit card sized plastic rectangles.

The guard perused them for a few seconds. Very good, Colonel Castle, Ms. Beckett please proceed.

"Thank you, corporal." The gate slid open and Castle drove through, stopping the Range Rover about fifty meters down the road. He slipped the gear selector into Park and twisted in his seat to meet Kate's inquiring gaze. "Surprise."

"All right, I'm surprised. So what's going on…er 'Colonel'."

"You remember when you said you wanted to learn about military stuff?"

"Of course. I'm not senile Rick."

"And you said you wanted to get out into the woods and get dirty?"

"Yes."

"Welcome to Camp Leatherneck."

"So this is like fantasy baseball camp?"

"On steroids," Rick agreed. "Only we use real bullets."

"Seriously, what is this place?" Kate demanded.

"Seriously, I found that there are a lot of folks like me that left the Corps for some reason and miss it. They miss the spirit, the camaraderie, the ethos. And they're patriots who'd fight to defend their state if necessary. So we came up with the idea of Camp Leatherneck. The state donated the land and I paid for the facilities. In return, the Florida Guard can come here any time they want and get very realistic force on force training for free."

"You said 'we'."

"Oh, right. Rich, and me."

"Rich the governor?"

"Uh..yeah."

"So how do I fit in, I'm not an ex-Marine." Kate wondered.

"This last year, we started taking people with some formal training like other services, police, and agencies like the FBI and Secret Service. We put them through a condensed version of boot camp and then assign them platoons that have a cadre of actual ex-marines.

Kate felt her pulse hammering as she realized the import of Rick's little speech. "You want me to do your boot camp thing, don't you."

"If you don't want to…" Rick couldn't mask a hint of disappointment.

Kate leaned over and punched him gently on the shoulder. "I told you I wanted to do it right. When can I start.?

"How about now?"

"Bring it on Mr. Castle."

"Okay, he grinned, put the Range Rover in gear and accelerated down the road.

Kate couldn't see anything but the road disappearing in the distance between towering pines and near impenetrable undergrowth. "Where are we going, Rick?"

"Headquarters is just around the bend." He took a breath, "Kate?"

"Yes," giving him full attention.

"For this to work, while you're here, you're Recruit Beckett, not my girl friend."

"I understand Rick, I don't want any special treatment."

The woods fell away as the Range Rover passed into a large open area. Several buildings occupied the center of the space. Rick pointed out and identified each structure as he drove. " The large two story building is the Admin building, the two long single-story structures are barracks - male and female, the building to the right of the barracks is the dining hall and building on the far side of the barracks is the Armory."

At least forty people, mostly men with a significant sprinkling of women, were assembled in four lines engaged in vigorous calisthenics. "The daily 16," Rick observed, "They'll follow this up with a five-mile run."

Even though the group was all dressed identically in black gym shorts and red t-shirts, Kate recognized a tall woman on the back row. "Hayley?"

"Javier is duty officer this weekend, apparently he convinced Hayley to come along." Rick steered the Rover into a parking spot in front of the Admin building. Two women were standing next to the parking area. Kate assessed them as she climbed out of the vehicle. Both women were dressed identically - camo pants and a black t-shirt. They each wore their hair in a tight bun with a broad brimmed campaign hat tipped low over their eyes. The woman on the right was the taller of the two, at least equal to Kate's five feet nine inches. She looked to be around Rick's age and radiated a don't fuck with me, been there and done that vibe that caused Kate to swallow convulsively. Clearly, a woman who could give lessons in bad ass.

The second woman was a little (very little) less intimidating. Younger, the early thirties at a guess. Shorter, five-five maybe. Slight but clearly muscular and fit. Kate could almost imagine the merest ghost of a smile, unlike her older companion who had the expression of someone chewing on a hedgehog.

Rick leaned in and whispered as they approached the two. "Don't do or say anything unless they tell you to. Don't want to get off on the wrong foot." He halted about six feet away and Kate followed his example. "Good morning Roz, Anne"

"Good morning, Colonel." They answered in unison.

"I 'll leave recruit Beckett in your capable hands." He strode off toward the Admin building, without so much as a glance at Kate.

 _What have I got myself into_? Kate wondered. _This is starting to look like a grizzly roping thing. If this is a prank, I'll kill him._ The taller woman quickly disabused her of the prank hypothesis.

"Recruit Beckett, stand at attention." Kate braced as she had been taught at Quantico.

"Recruit Beckett, I am Master Gunnery Sergeant Karpowski. I am the Chief Drill Instructor. You will do precisely what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it. Unless I ask you a specific question, your verbal communications will be limited to Aye Ma'am, Yes Ma'am or No Ma'am. Do you understand, Recruit Beckett?"

"Aye Ma'am."

"Louder."

"Aye Ma'am" shouting.

Karpowski strode over to Kate, the brim of her cover (which Kate learned was Marine for a hat) almost touching the bridge of her nose. "Are you hard of hearing, Recruit Beckett?"

"No Ma'am," Kate screamed. Which seemed to marginally satisfy the DI.

"Recruit Beckett, Gunnery Sergeant Hastings will be your Primary Weapons Instructor. She will see that you draw equipment and get you squared away with your bunk and explain the training schedule."

Hastings stepped forward. "Follow me, Recruit Beckett."

"The next two hours were a blurred kaleidoscope of activities spiced with a data dump of epic proportion. By the time she had finished drawing equipment and stowing everything properly at her bunk (Rick hadn't said anything about spending the night, another bit of grief she owed him), the rest of the group, platoon, she had to learn to call it a platoon, had finished their morning exercise and run.

Lance Corporal Annabelle Stark had been amazing. Imparting tons of information and building skills. At the same time, she was friendly and approachable. At noon, Annabelle interrupted Kate's (pathetic) attempts to properly make up a rack (Marine for bunk). Annabelle kept reminding her that her linens are not allowed to touch the deck (Marine for the floor).

"Time for chow, recruit. We'll have to eat on the run. You're scheduled for the firing range at 13:00 but you have to pass inspection first." Kate barely had the chance to acknowledge Hayley. Kate and Annabelle collected their lunch which consisted of a liter bottle of water and a brown bag with a turkey sandwich and a banana. They ate quickly and double-timed back to the barracks. Kate finally caught the knack of making up her rack. Amanda had her collect her rifle and cleaning kit. The rifle ( don't ever call it a gun, guns fire shells the size of a fire hydrant and made huge holes in the ground) made her smile. The HK433 felt so good in her hands that she had to force herself to lay it down to clean it. Kate was not a true gun nut, but she knew enough to recognize that it was a quality weapon, the kind you could bet your life on.

Kate finished cleaning and reassembling her rifle Just in time to change into camo utilities and stand at attention when Master Gunnery Sergeant Karpowski strode in like a conquering army.

For the next fifteen minutes, Kate stood rigidly at attention. The DI questioned her relentlessly as she rummaged through Kate's sea chest. The questions ranged from Marine Corps history and traditions to military protocol and etiquette. She poked the center of the blanket covering Kate's rack with her forefinger. Fortunately, it was tight as a drumhead. Kate thought that the veteran sergeant may have thawed an infinitesimal amount when Kate gave an impassioned retelling of the story of Frozen Chosin. She gave a virtual hug to Rick for regaling her with the history of the Marine Corps while cooling their heels in the hospital.

"Join your squad, recruit." The DI growled. Signifying that Kate had passed inspection. Thankful to be done with the ordeal, Kate snatched up her rifle and double-timed out of the barracks, slinging the rifle as she went. Emerging from the barracks she noticed a group of women formed up on the far side of the parade ground.

"That's our squad," Annabelle confirmed. The squad was drawn up in two files of five. The first woman on the left carried a pole about eight feet long with a small swallow-tail flag (guidon, it's called a guidon) attached. Annabelle ushered Kate into position at the end of the right-hand file. Annabelle took the position normally occupied by the squad - leader, or the DI in a training squad. "Squad," she commanded. "Quick time, march."

They stepped out smartly, although Kate had to take a quick stutter step before getting the timing. At the far end of the cleared ground, the road entered a densely wooded area. They marched about a klick and the squad emerged into an open grassy area. that was unmistakably a firing range. There were four firing lanes, each about twenty meters wide by fifty meters long with packed earth berms on three sides. A dozen targets stood lined up down range, life size generic human silhouettes. Kate grinned to herself, half the silhouettes were female - no gender bias here. Gunny Hastings was waiting at the firing line "For those of you who don't know me, I'm gunnery sergeant Hastings. despite what you've seen in movies or on TV, do not address me as 'gunny'. You may address me as ma'am or sergeant. When I give you instruction or orders, you will respond with 'Aye ma'am'. If I ask you a question, you will respond with 'yes ma'am' or 'no ma'am". If you have a question about your training, you will raise your hand. When I acknowledge your question, you will come to attention and state your question clearly and succinctly. You will then return to formation. When you want to know why something is done, you will remind yourself that the Corps has been training marksmen for two hundred and forty years and it may be possible that we know more about it than you do. I don't care if your daddy taught you to hunt bunnies before you could walk, because, recruits, bunnies don't shoot back.

When you qualify, you will be a combat marksman. You will hit your targets when hot lead fills the air around you like angry hornets. You will hit your targets at close range and long range. You will shoot faster and straighter than your enemies. You will win. She proceeded to teach the eleven female recruits how to 'shoot like a marine'. She laid the foundation with an intense half hour safety lecture. Next, each recruit went through the painstaking process of sighting in her rifle and practicing firing in three positions - prone, kneeling and standing. "In order to qualify at this stage, you must fire five shots from each position at 25 meters, 50 meters, 100 meters, and 200 meters." Sergeant Hastings informed them when she was satisfied that they had mastered the basics. "A hit in the kill zone counts 5 points, a hit in the torso outside the kill zone counts 1 point all other hits or misses count zero. The maximum possible score is 300, in order to qualify at this stage, you must have a minimum score of 270. You will begin in the standing position at 25 meters."

She strode a couple of paces to a pole and threw a switch on an electrical box. A target popped up from below ground at 25 meters in front of each firing position. "As soon as you fire your first shot, the timer will begin. You have 30 seconds to complete each stage. Every 30 seconds, your current target will retract and the target for the next stage will appear. Just for information, the highest recruit score on this exercise is 287. Take your positions." The women sorted themselves out, one to each lane, standing with rifles at port arms. "Load." Each woman inserted a full magazine of thirty rounds and pulled back on the charging handle. "Ready, commence firing."

Waiting for the command to fire, Kate felt a bit queasy. She had qualified on the M4 carbine at Quantico, but the qualification test was nothing like this and we are just at the beginner level with a lot more training and testing before being completely qualified. Rick Castle is a sadist, I don't think even real Marines have to shoot so much on their first day. Kate's nerves caused her to pull her first shot to the right, but she settled down, firing steadily, with total focus.

The bolt on her rifle locked open just as the last target dropped out of sight. _Wow, that was intense. I think I did okay, but what if I didn't? I'll die of embarrassment. "Oh crap." she groaned quietly as she looked around and noticed Rick and Javier standing silently, twenty paces behind the_ firing line. _Damn, he looks good in camo. Wonder if he has one of those super hot blue dress uniforms? Focus Kate, focus._

"Fall in." Sergeant Hastings ordered and then noticed the two officers. She moved to call her squad to attention, but Rick stopped her with a raised palm.

"As you were Gunny. we got any potential Annie Oakley's in the squad?"

"Yes, sir. Everyone qualified." She reported, unable to suppress a grin.

"I take it you have more to report gunny"

"We have a new recruit record. In fact, three recruits in this squad beat the previous record. Recruit Parker fired a 293, recruit Shipton fired 291 and recruit Beckett fired 289."

"Outstanding Gunny! Urrah, ladies."

Rick and Javier moved on to the adjacent range to check on the male recruits and a truck pulled up next to a covered shelter behind the firing line. The shelter included two long picnic style tables and Sergeant Hastings directed her squad to seat themselves at one of the tables. Two men climbed out of the truck and carried cardboard boxes to the table where they distributed styrofoam trays (like restaurant take-out boxes) to each member of the squad. A second trip delivered a cooler full of bottled water, iced tea, and sports drinks.

Kate found herself seated at the end of a bench, next to Hayley and directly across from Sergeant Hastings. Hayley gave Kate a gentle elbow in the ribs. "How ya doing girl?"

"Good, a little tired, but otherwise good."

"I didn't know you two know each other," Hastings observed.

"Yes, ma'am. Kate and I work out of the same field office."

"FBI, right?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You can ditch the ma'am. No rank in the chow hut. It's just Anne for now."

"Okay," Kate responded. "May I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure, ask away."

"What did you do before you came here?"

"After 2 years of college, I was bored out of my mind, so I joined the Marines. Did a tour in the sandbox and came back to be a DI at Parris Island. Then, I was an instructor for the scout/sniper course. Two years ago, I got a call from Colonel Castle and I've been here ever since."

"That Colonel Castle is a hunk," the woman across the table from Hayley blurted out.

Hayley choked on a mouthful of dinner as Kate turned her gaze away, "Really, I didn't notice." When she turned back, she noticed the knowing smirk gracing the sergeant's features. She knows.

"Recruit Beckett wasn't here last night to meet everyone, so why don't you all introduce yourselves. Tanya?

"Tanya Blackman," Responded the woman, sitting next to Sergeant Snyder, the one who made the comment about Rick. "I'm a social worker with the Children's Home Society."

"Denise Parker. I teach PE at Pinellas Academy."

"How did you learn to shoot?" Hayley asked recognizing Denise as the top shooter from the previous range session.

"I had this fantasy of competing in the Biathlon at the winter Olympics." She answered with a rueful smile. "After training for three years, I found I could shoot the lights out, but was hopeless at the skiing part."

"Tremayne Taylor," the next woman stated with a noticeable Caribbean accent. I'm a nurse at All Children's Hospital."

"Annabelle Starke, I'm on the staff here full-time. Before that, I was a Marine for four years."

"Nikki Pender, I own a martial arts studio."

"Zulu Kinsley, BATF."

"Megan Carlyle, I'm a pilot with Delta."

"Jenna Simon, Morning News Anchor Channel 11 "Le Van Ngoc Graduate student at USF. Jade

"Maria Gallardo, Personal Trainer ."

Gunnery Sergeant Hastings gathered up the reins. "All right, Ladies. You've got 5 minutes to police up the shelter and fall in at the firing line."

The squad stood at ease as the sergeant explained the next drill. Her predatory smirk did nothing to instill a sense of calm in her trainees.

\- You will start at 300 meters and fire 2 shots at standing, 2 at kneeling and 2 at prone. You will continue to engage the target until you achieve 2 kills. The targets will disappear when killed.

\- You will run to 25 meters a new target will popup and you will fire 2 shots in 2 seconds, head shots.

You will run back to 50 meters and fire 2 shots standing at the center of mass.

You will advance to 25 meters and engage 2 targets wile moving, 2 shots each, center of mass. One of the two targets will not go down, this simulates a penetration failure. Engage with headshots until the target is killed.

Move to 15 meters, same drill.

Move to 10 meters, same drill. Execute a speed reload.

Move to 7 meters, same drill.

Move to 5 meters Same drill.

Run back to the line. 10 targets will appear randomly for 2 seconds each. Engage from standing, 2 shots each center of mass.

"Each recruit will have two magazines that contain a blank round. This simulates a stoppage. When you experience a failure, you will carry out a proper clearance and continue firing. Any questions?"

"No ma'am." The squad shouted in unison.

"Recruit Carlyle, you're up first."

Kate watched Megan Carlyle run the course. She was doing pretty well until an explosion erupted in front of her as she moved from 25 to 15 meters. She missed her next two shots, but then settled down and completed the drill. Kate glanced over at Sergeant Hastings, who was watching stoically. _Rick Castle, you are in so much trouble._

Kate went fourth. She was surprised when a machine gun popped up with the 100-meter target and appeared to open fire with a stutter and simulated muzzle flashes. Small puffs of dirt stitched across the field directly at her position. She felt a brief jolt of fear, but instinctively fired at the target behind the gun and the gun went silent when the target went down.

Finally, each member of the squad had completed the course and Sergeant Hastings marched the group back toward the barracks. Dirty, sweaty and tired, the squad clearly had a bit of swagger in their march. Every member had qualified and overcome the obstacles and little surprises that the course had thrown at them. _It was stressful, but I have to admit, it was kind of fun. Best of all, even with the running and falling, I don't feel any pain at all from the surgery. Two more weeks. She sighed. How am I going to make it for two more weeks?_

Kate's detective senses were tingling. Following their experience on the firing range. They had cleaned and turned their weapons into the armory, Caught a shower and changed into camouflage utilities. They enjoyed some very tasty chow for dinner and cleaned up the mess hall and listened intently as Javier taught a class on patrol tactics. By 21:00 they had cleaned the barracks, endured another inspection by Master Gunnery Sergeant Karpowski and changed into sleepwear. With a half hour until 'lights out', they settled down on a couple of adjacent bunks for serious conversation.

Kate found that she liked all the members of the squad and could see them being friends in the long term. It was a seeming hodgepodge of wildly dissimilar people with little in common beyond their gender, but during the day, she began to realize there was something going on beyond the obvious. First was the fact that every member of the squad had passed the basic shooting qualification on their first try. According to Annabelle, that was not a common occurrence. Second, they were all extremely fit. Finally, they were all successful professionals or business owners, independent and strong minded. What were the odds of a group like this happening by chance? Slim, if that. Somebody was up to something and she had a pretty good idea who it might be.

"You look a little puzzled, Kate," Annabelle observed.

"I just have a lot of questions."

"So ask."

"Okay, why is this squad all female? The other recruits are mixed."

"That's easy," Tremayne responded. "We volunteered."

"Oh? Why?

"When we arrived last night, Major Esposito asked if anyone wanted to be involved in an experiment. After he explained, we all volunteered."

"Okay, second question. If you wanted to be soldiers, why didn't you just join the National Guard?"

"What happens to the National Guard in a war?" Maria queried.

"It gets federalized and becomes….. Oh."

"I'm perfectly willing to defend my home, my city, my state," Megan stated with conviction. "But I don't really want to be forced to ship out to Uzbekistan because some politician wants to get re-elected. "

"Robert E. Lee." Kate nodded. "He turned down command of all the Federal Armies because he felt a higher duty to protect Virginia."

"Exactly, If anyone ever invades Florida and the regular armed forces aren't able to respond, the invaders might find things a bit more inhospitable than they expect."

"Whose idea was this? Kate asked unnecessarily.

"Not sure," Annabelle responded. "But I think the governor and Colonel Castle had something to do with it."

"One more thing," Ngoc suggested, "Where else can you be trained by people like Colonel Castle, Major Esposito, and Sergeants Karpowski and Hastings."

"Good point," Kate agreed. "Hastings seems a bit young."

"She is young," Tanya agreed " But don't let that fool you, she's a warrior. She was awarded a silver star in Afghanistan for single-handedly taking out a Taliban machine gun with just her side arm."

"Kate," Annabelle spoke up. "Lots of people come here for the fantasy camp aspect. Most just come and go, but sometimes, the Colonel sees someone who has potential and they get offered to join the team. That's how all of us got here."

Rick Castle looked up from his laptop screen as a knock pulled his attention away. "Come in Javier, Roz, Anne. Have a seat."

"This is a very impressive group, Colonel." Anne Hastings offered since she had been with the group throughout the day.

"Any natural leaders emerge?"

"Not yet, maybe we'll try an obstacle course run tomorrow, that usually smokes out any latent leaders."

Both Esposito and Karpowski nodded approval.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" Javier asked, "That this is the right group?"

Rick gave him a hard look, "I'm sure. I hope to God it never happens, but if it does I want the lionesses to be available."

"Lionesses?" Javier quirked an eyebrow.

"Can you think of a better description?"

"No, I guess not."


	89. Chapter 89

**A/N Thanks for all the support and encouragement. This update finally gets our heroes to the Keys. The action will pick up significantly as we approach the climax. Just a few chapters to go.**

Bang, bang, bang. The incredible cacophony jolted Kate out of sleep and halfway out of her bunk. Her eyes snapped open, brain registering two realities. someone had turned on the lights and Sergeant Hastings was standing in the middle of the room banging a metal trash can with a night stick. "Let's go ladies. Rise and shine. We're burning daylight." she shouted as the squad jolted out of their racks. "You have 1 hour to morning formation. Uniform is utilities, we're going to have some fun today. I want tight racks."  
One hour later, the 50 recruits were standing at parade rest by squads facing the flagpole at the edge of the parade ground. Sergeant Karpowski, standing with her back to the recruits, called "Attention." Rick Castle and Javier Esposito, also in camouflage utilities marched out of the admin building followed by two of the staff bearing a folded flag. They came to halt facing Sergeant Karpowski, while the color bearers continued to the flagpole, snapped the flag to the halyard and stood expectantly.

Javier took four paces forward to face the sergeant. "Report, Sergeant."

"All present and correct, Sir." She replied and saluted.

Javier returned the salute, executed an about face, took four paces back to face Rick. Bracing to attention, he saluted and announced, "All present and correct, sir."

"Very well, Major." Rick made an about face to face the flag pole and the tinny notes of a bugle call echoed across the parade ground 'Attention", followed by "To the Colors". The company slammed to attention and saluted as the flag rose to the top of the pole, rippling in the gentle breeze. the company held their salute as the Star-Spangled Banner rang out.  
As the last notes of the National Anthem faded away, the company marched to the grassy area behind the barracks. Five logs, each about fifteen feet long and twelve inches in diameter, were laid out parallel to each other. The logs were peeled smooth on the outside and Kate estimated that each log probably weighed in the neighborhood of 300 pounds. The company split up with ten people to each log.

Kate and the lionesses were assigned to the same log, reinforcing her suspicion that Rick was up to something. Rick, Javier and Sergeant Karpowski stepped up to one log to demonstrate the proper technique. As Javier explained each step, they carried out each step and the recruits followed their lead. At the command 'Ready," they slid their right hands under the log and joined with their left hands which crossed over the log. On the command, "Up", they stood, bringing the log up to waist high. On the command 'Up', they raised the log to rest on their right shoulders. On the command, 'Over', they raised the log overhead with their arms straight. On the command 'Down', the process reversed ending up with the log on the ground.

They cycled through the process ten times and then were directed to run across the clearing and back with the log on their shoulders. The women ran into trouble almost immediately, ending up dropping the log. Fortunately no one was hurt, but they stood panting, thoroughly disgusted with themselves.

"Hey, I have an idea." Kate blurted out. The others looked at her quizzically. "I think the problem is we have a big range of heights. The taller ones end up taking most of the weight. Let's get everyone lined up shortest to tallest, that way, everyone will carry the weight equally." They quickly sorted themselves out, hoisted the log and set off in pursuit of the other squads. They crossed the finish line third out of the five groups.

Sergeant Hastings was waiting at the finish with a blatant grin. "Way to go ladies!" she applauded.

"We didn't win." Kate grumped. The squad echoed her frustration with a soft growl.

Hastings expression became serious. "You did something more important than winning."

The squad looked skeptical and Kate responded "Okay, what's more important than winning?"

"First, you worked as a team, everybody contributed. That's possibly the most important lesson from this weekend."

"And lesson number two?"

"You adapted, you had a problem and you dealt with it and continued the mission."

"Yeah, I can see that" Kate replied, brightening a little."

"Fall in." Sergeant Karpowski directed as the last team lowered their log thankfully to the ground. She led them by a bench stacked with bottles of water. The recruits sucked back the precious liquid as they marched double time to the wood-line where a previously unnoticed path led into the thick undergrowth. A hundred yards into the woods, they halted in a small clearing and lined up in formation.

"Recruits, you have come to the final evolution for the weekend," Sergeant Karpowski addressed the group with a barely disguised smirk. "This is an obstacle course, we call 'The Crusher'. The reason for the name will become obvious soon."  
Kate and her team traded bleak glances. That didn't sound encouraging, especially since they had just completed (survived) an hour of log PT. They were all drenched in sweat and their uniforms chafed uncomfortably. Kate shook her arms loosely to dispel the stabbing cramps that made every movement stiff and painful. "Damn," she groaned, "I think I met my maker." The subdued groans of the rest of her team convinced her that she was not alone in that assessment.  
The sergeant continued, "The Crusher consists of sixteen stations. you will have 15 minutes to complete each station. Stations 1, 8, 12, and 16 are operational problems requiring creative thinking and leadership in order to complete the mission successfully. You will receive 5 points for each station completed. All team members must complete each station in order to get credit for the station. No one is left behind, simulated casualties must be evacuated. If a station is not completed in the allotted 15 minutes, you will receive 0 points and proceed to the next station. No team has ever finished with a perfect score. Team 1, You're up ladies."

Kate and the rest of the lionesses followed Sergeant Hastings down a narrow footpath to Station 1. The intervening vegetation prevented the groups left at the start point from observing the previous group's approach to solving the problem. Station 1 was a heavy wooden wall, eight feet tall and 20 feet wide. On the near side of the wall was a 'moat' full of water. the water began at the base of the wall and extended out 6 feet from the wall.

"In this scenario, you are all POW's," Hastings began. "The wall and moat represent a small section of the perimeter of a prison camp. The enemy has announced that they will execute ten prisoners per day starting tomorrow. You have decided to escape today. You may use any material lying on the ground inside the wall. You may not go around the wall or touch the edges of the wall or the water at all. There is a guard on the opposite side of the wall. You must be very quiet, if the guard hears you, he will shoot you. Any questions? No? Good luck, you have 15 minutes."

Kate strode over to the small pile of material, eyes scanning and cataloging what seems to be a pile of useless junk. The rest of the team clustered around and carefully pawed through the material. "Any ideas?" She whispered.

Jenna picked up a length of galvanized pipe. "You think this will support our weight?"

"Only one way too tell." Hayley responded. "Zulu, how about grabbing the other end."

"Okay." She responded, and hefted the pipe to her shoulder. "Someone hang on the center."

"I'll do it." Tanya volunteered. She grasped the bar with her hands and swung her legs up and over the bar crossing at the knees. The bar sagged slightly in the center, maybe an inch or so. Plenty strong enough to get them over the wall if they were clever enough.

"So, let's just lean these two pipes against the top of the wall and then shinny up the poles and over the top of the wall." Hayley suggested.

"The poles aren't long enough to reach the top of the wall." Tremayne observed. "Let me think for a second. Okay, if we put one end of the pipes on the ground just outside the moat, then the other end should rest against the wall about two feet from the top."

"That should get us close enough to the top to pull ourselves over." Jenna agreed. "But what do we do about the sentry?"

Jade, who had still been searching through the small pile of material they had available, suddenly rocked back on her heels with a triumphant grin. She waved her trophy aloft.

"I don't think Rick….Uh , I mean Colonel Castle meant for us to kill his staff." Kate whispered as she recognized the object as a K-Bar combat knife.

Jade's shoulders shook with silent laughter. She held the knife in both hands and effortlessly bent the blade into a u-shape. Rubber - a training knife. "If I can get over the wall, I think think I can take out the sentry."

"Any ideas on getting over the wall?" Kate whispered to to the team.

"Let's do a trial run with the pole against a tree," Megan suggested. The trial was an abject failure. the angle of the pole when leaned against the wall was not steep enough to allow one's lower legs and butt to clear the water when the climber was hanging underneath the pole. On the other hand, the surface of the conduit was too slippery to walk up the pole like a flying Wallenda. Sergeant Hastings, who was observing from a short distance away, caught Kate's eye and flashed five-fingers twice, They had ten minutes left at this station. "All right ladies,"Kate rasped. " We've only got ten minutes left. I don't want to wash out on the first obstacle."

The low growl that passed through the team signaled their agreement. "What we need is a ladder." Zulu lamented."

"That's it, I've got it." Every one turned to Tanya. "We'll make a ladder." She scurried to the material pile and returned, dragging several lengths of rope. "My brother was an Eagle scout and I helped him with a project"

The others stared at her expectantly.

"We built a thirty foot zip line tower using nothing but saplings and rope."

"We can make a ladder with the poles and the rope. the poles will be the uprights, and we can use rope for the rungs." Kate realized. "Let's get it done."

With a minute to spare, they lowered the ladder into place and Jade scrambled up, looking positively piratical with the knife clasped in her teeth. She slipped over the wall like a stalking python and the bored sentry was suddenly seized from behind in a chokehold and the knife plunged into a kidney. The remainder of the team quickly followed, rewarding the scowling sentry with brilliant smiles. "Let's go ladies," Kate suggested and trotted toward the path to station 2. The lionesses didn't hesitate, but charged off after their leader.  
Rick and Sergeant Karpowski traded glances as Kate led the lionesses out of the trees and across the parade ground toward their barrack. The women were liberally coated with glutinous Florida mud, uniforms torn and bedraggled, with numerous scrapes and bruises. "They look like the survivors of a collision between two dump trucks full of mud."

"They're a mess," Rick agreed. "But they've got it Gunner, they've got it."

"Sir?"

"The swagger, Gunner, the swagger. They did something special and they know it. More importantly, they know they could do it again if they had to."

Karpowski's phone chimed and she quickly listened to the caller. Ending the call, she reached into a pocket and extracted a crisp $100 bill. She passed it with feigned reluctance to Rick. "That was Gunny Hastings. I should know better than to bet with you after all these years They completed every station with only three time penalties."

"Yes!" Rick answered with a fist pump. I can't wait for our next meeting."

Roz smiled at his enthusiasm, "You're planning on something diabolical, aren't you?"

"Who, me?" trying to look innocent and failing miserably. "Bring it….."  
"Shouldn't you find out what it is first?" "Doesn't matter, ,,,,,This group is special. So what is it?" "I thinking of a little force on force, see if they were paying attention to Javi's lecture on patrol technique."

Roz' eyebrow raise was nearly as good as Kate's. "You are being clever. Who are you going to use for the red force?"

"Don't know yet. Maybe that's something you can work on while I'm in the Keys."

Kate led the lionesses to where Gunny Hastings was waiting with a firehose and a smile. "You ladies didn't think you were going to track mud all over my nice clean barracks, did you?" Freshly hosed, showered and back in street clothesKate slid into the passenger seat of the Range Rover. Without looking at Rick, she reached over and punched him lightly on the bicep. "Rick, you knew I don't like surprises."

"But, I brought you your favorite latte to you at work this week." Rick protested. "You didn't seem to mind that."

"I didn't mind. they were…sweet. But sending me off to boot camp with no notice and no preparation, that was bit too much surprise. Rick looked crestfallen, not unlike a child who made a huge mess in the kitchen making Mom pancakes for Mother's day. They drove without speaking, down the tree-lined entrance road, out through the front gate guardhouse and onto the main road back to Tampa. Kate displaying her stony poker-face; and Rick striving manfully to be quiet and not make things worse.

"Rick."

"Uh, yeah?"

"Pull over."

"Uh, okay." He braked to a halt on the grassy shoulder, before he could even slip the gear selector into park, Kate burst out laughing. "You're so easy Rick."

"You're not mad?"

She launched herself across the console kissing him until his breath came in hoarse rasping gasps. "Of course not, that was freaking awesome."

"It sure looked like you were having fun."

"Yep, learned a lot and made some new friends. You know I've been a bit closed off. Never had many real friends, but the women on the team accepted me straight off and treated me like we had been friends forever." A wayward tear trailed down her cheek and Rick reached over and wiped it gently away with his thumb. "I owe you for that if nothing else."

"You got another thing out of the experience."

"What was that?" She asked, puzzled."

"They tacitly promoted you to team leader." He responded with a grin," And it was so seamless that none of you recognized it."

"Wow," Kate mused. "I never realized it. We just kinda did it. Gunny Hastings said that we were one of the best teams ever."

"One of?" he snorted. "The best, you all really set the bar high. I'm going to have to work extra hard to find some suitable challenges.

"Bring it, Mr. Castle.

"Count on it Ms. Beckett"

Kate sat quietly, watching the scenery flash by. "Rick?

"Yes." He stole a glance, instantly recognizing that something serious was in the offing.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Which 'this' are we talking about?"

"The 'boot camp' one."

"It makes money. People pay a lot to come here for the authentic 'Leatherneck Experience."

"It's a lot more than that, isn't it?" Kate suggested.

"Yeah, a lot more.

"Rick, I'm not dumb enough to believe that you can turn us into Marines in a few weekends. So what is this all about?"  
"Second Amendment." He stated simply.

"Second Amendment? To the Constitution?"

"Yep. How's it go?"

" 'A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed'"Kate replied. You're creating a militia?"

"Yeah, but not 'a' militia, 'the' militia. The official militia of the State of Florida."

"Some of the team said that they would fight to defend the state, but not some obscure country on the other side of the world. I agree with them as far as that goes." Kate declared.

Rick continued. "Admiral Yamamoto is supposed to have said that the reason he didn't invade the U.S. was that there would be a man with a rifle behind every blade of grass. At Camp Leather Neck, we teach those folks to shoot, how to stay alive in a battle, and basic tactics - how to effectively carry the fight to the enemy. In other words, a well regulated militia."

"Nobody can accuse you of being conventional." Kate whistled softly. "It's going to take me a while to get my head around the idea that the 'militia' is not the National Guard."

"The name kind of gives it away. When push comes to shove, the National Guard is under the control of the federal government. Don't get me wrong, the Guard is great. It's just not the same as the militia mentioned in the Constitution."

"I assume the Governor knows about this."

"Of course" The state actually owns most of the land that the camp is situated on."

As they pulled into Rick's garage, Kate spoke. "Rick, I'm going to spend tonight and tomorrow night at my place. If you don't mind I'll come over to your place Tuesday night and we can leave early for the Keys."

"Was hoping you'd stay tonight." He did a horrible job of hiding his disappointment.

"Rick, I don't have any work clothes here, and Hayley and I are having a girl's night with the team tomorrow night. It'll just be less complicated if I stay at my place." Besides, I have a lot of thinking to do. "Rick, don't look like someone kicked your puppy, I'm not leaving. We'll be together in the Keys and I still have a reservation in your allegedly amazing bed."

He brightened instantly. "I have an idea, What if we ask Javier and Hayley to dinner here Tuesday night. They can spend the night and we'll bright and early for the keys."

"That would be fun, I'll ask her today and let you know." She walked into his arms and stood a tiptoe for a kiss. Good night, Rick."

Goodnight sweetheart, I'll call you tomorrow."

Tampa Tuesday November 14

Javier and Rick sat on Rick's deck enjoying a cold Sam Adams and waiting for their ladies. They had dropped the women off at the Bureau to claim Kate's M3 and go to their apartments to pick up their luggage for the week. Javier then drove to his apartment and loaded his luggage into the Navigator. On the way to Rick's they stopped at Rick's favorite butcher shop and purchased some of their bleu cheese/onion ground sirloin patties. Rick was pretty sure they would all be in the mood for uncomplicated comfort food and nothing fits that description better than a good burger. "Not to pry my friend," Rick took a long pull on his beer, "but you and Hayley seem to be getting along well."

Javier sighed, "Better than well, really well, but that creates a dilemma?"

"A dilemma?"

"Yeah, how long should you know a woman before you propose?"

"You serious?"

"Dead serious."

"Well, I don't think there's actually a rule or anything. Just whenever you both know you're ready. Amy and I got engaged a month after we met and most of our friends thought that was pretty quick."Do you think Hayley would say yes"

"I think so."

"So what's holding you back?"

"Well, the age difference for one thing, 16 years is pretty significant."

Rick laughed, "Whats the matter Bro, don't think you can tame a young filly like that?"

"Not funny Rick, sooo…not funny."

"Sorry man, but seriously I think you should leave that up to Hayley, if it doesn't bother her, don't let it bother you. I can actually think of a more significant obstacle."

"Yeah?" Javier looked a little worried.

"Were you going to do the traditional thing and ask her father for her hand?"

"I guess so."

"Do you know who Hayley's father is?"

"No, we haven't really had time to share family histories. So who is he?"

"Captain David Farragut Shipton, USN" Rick informed him with an expectant grin.

"You're kidding, '41 knot Shipton', well now we know how my girl got to be such a kick-ass, it's genetic.

Captain David Farragut Shipton earned his honorific during the Bandar Deylam fiasco. After the USS Wasp recovered the surviving Marines and one unflyable Osprey, its captain had turned south and cracked on full speed, but it still had to run a deadly gauntlet of Iranian missile corvettes and strike aircraft before it reached the Strait of Hormuz. Wasp had put out a desperate call for help, but the fix was in. Just as the marines had been sacrificed, so would USS Wasp die to feed the monster's ambition. The other U.S. Navy ships in the area, under orders to not enter the Strait, turned a deaf ear. Except for one. 50 nautical miles from Wasp and a sizable chunk of the Iranian Navy, was the Aegis cruiser U.S.S Leyte Gulf under the command of Captain David Farragut Shipton. Receiving Wasp's call, Captain Shipton put his ship on a course to rendezvous with Wasp.

Aegis Cruisers have a maximum rated speed of 32 knots and Captain Shipton knew that at that speed, Wasp was unlikely to survive long enough to be rescued. Calling his engineering officer, he issued the order that would end his career, but secure forever his place in the pantheon of U.S. Navy heroes. "Override all safety interlocks," he snarled at the engineer, "Put everything in the red. I want a minimum of 41 knots or I will personally bust you back to ensign."

An hour later, Wasp had exhausted the ammunition for her Phalanx anti-missile systems and fired her last RAM missiles. The enemy sensed the sudden change and like sharks scenting blood, they came boring in to complete their mission and destroy the big ship with all hands.

Then, at that moment, Leyte Gulf stormed over the horizon like a force 5 hurricane, her big GE marine turbines screaming like the tortured souls of Tartarus as the cruiser streaked past Wasp and pitched in to the enemy flotilla with guns blazing and missiles flying. It was over quickly, the Iranian flotilla reduced to smoking wreckage by the cruiser's furious onslaught. Captain Shipton paid a high price for doing his duty. The same powers that drove Rick Castle out of the Marines, forced a fighting sailor into early retirement.

However, the law of unintended consequences is inescapable, even for Czars. The injustice inflicted on her father convinced his youngest daughter to decline an appointment to the Naval Academy and take a different path. A path that led to the FBI and a best friend named Kate Beckett.

"So what's Rick's place like?" Hayley's curiosity could not be contained. Kate was concentrating on negotiating the traffic on the Howard Frankland bridge, so it took a minute to frame her answer.

"It's nowhere near as fancy and ostentatious as you might think given his bank account. It's simple, comfortable, warm and inviting. Nothing fancy, but everything in it is the best quality. His kitchen is to die for and the guest suite is absolutely amazing. Just wait until you try the steam shower."

"Steam shower, huh? How many bedrooms?"

"Just two that I know of, the master and the guest bedroom."

"And you don't see a problem?"

"No, I'm sleeping with Rick" Kate grinned to herself "And I'm sure Javier won't mind if you share his bed."

"Kate!" Hayley's reaction was so predictable. "I'm not sure I can handle the platonic snoozing thing you and Rick have going. If I climb in bed with Javier, I'm pretty sure how that would end and I'm not ready for that."

Kate couldn't suppress a snicker, "You're starting to sound like me."

"Yeah, scary isn't it"  
"Very," Kate stole a quick sideways glance at her friend who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. "Don't worry, I'm sure Rick didn't automatically assume you were going to bunk with Javier."

"Kate?" her tone got Kate's attention, "If Rick were to propose tonight, what would you say?"

"Whoa, where'd that come from?" Kate's pulse hammered in her ears, "Do you know something I don't know?"

"No, no, I'm sorry Kate, I'm just speaking hypothetically."

"Oh," disappointment flooded in replacing the high of the moment before. "Then hypothetically, I'd say yes."

"Seriously?'

"Yes, absolutely." She stole another glance at her friend, "Is it possible that the hypothetical me and Rick is the actual Hayley and Javier?"

"Can't sneak anything past you can I?"

"Nope. Javier didn't propose did he?"

"No, I'm just getting a vibe from him that's all. I've never felt it before with any other guy and its kind of scary."

"Do you love him?"

"Is it possible to be in love with someone after one date?"

"You're kidding, right?" Kate choked out.

Hayley laughed, "Oh yeah , I forgot; you're the original 'Nice to meet you-let's get married' girl."

"I'm not that bad,…am I?"

"Not quite, but I'm not the one who made reservations for two in a king-sized bed for a week in the Keys."

"Remember when you told me not to force it, just let it happen naturally?"

"Yeah, I remember, so I should take my own advice?"

"It was good advice, so yes." Kate turned into Rick's driveway, "Well, we're here." They retrieved their overnight bags and Kate led her friend to the garage door that opened into Rick's shop. She input her security code, and the door opened silently. As they walked in, Hayley halted in amazement.

"Kate, what's all this?"

"Rick's woodworking shop."

"Rick does woodworking?"

"Yes, you'll see some of the things he made when we go upstairs. He does amazing work." They climbed the stairs and entered the kitchen, just as Rick was lifting a batch of waffle cut sweet potato fries out of the deep fryer. He dumped them into a serving bowl and sprinkled on some of his favorite spice blend.

"Hope you're okay with burgers and fries for dinner." He asked as he gave Kate a hug and a quick peck on the cheek.

Both women laughed. "If I ever turn down a good burger and fries, you should call 911," Kate declared.

"Me too," Hayley chimed in.

"What can I get you ladies to drink?"

"Beer for me," Kate answered.

"Same here," from Hayley.

"Sam Adams Boston Lager?"

"Perfect," they answered together laughing.

Rick handed the bowl of fries to Kate, "If you'll take this, I'll get the drinks."

"Okay, are we going to eat on the deck?"  
"Yeah, the weather's nice, Javier's out there playing grillmaster." Hayley followed Kate through the dining room and out onto the deck. Javier was just sliding the sizzling burgers onto a platter, Hayley took the platter, getting a hug and chaste kiss in the process, while Javier spread some rolls on the grill to toast. The guys had set the table and prepared all the fixings, soon joined by a platter of perfectly cooked burgers and hot sweet potato chips.

Hayley leaned over and whispered to Kate, "Do you always get spoiled like this?"

Kate gave her friend a rueful smile, "Yeah, pretty much."

"Wow, a girl could get used to this."

"Don't get too carried away, we do have to clean up and do the dishes."

"Small price to pay for a great meal," Hayley shrugged. Rick arrived with large galvanized bucket full of shaved ice and a dozen bottles of Sam Adams best. He placed the bucket on the deck beside the table and held Kate's chair as she seated herself. Javier seated Hayley before taking his own seat and passing out the burgers. Rick supplied everyone with a cold beverage, and the group settled down to build the perfect burger. After everyone had eaten, they moved to the two facing wicker love-seats that shared the deck with the dining table. The women instinctively sought the arms of their guys. By common consent the talk avoided the trials of the day and turned to inconsequential things that were nevertheless comforting in their normality. Whether the Gators or the 'Noles had the best recruiting year, whether a Porsche Carrerra S could hold its own against a Ferrari 348 at Sebring, or which contestant should be the next elimination on America's Got Talent. Those and more were discussed, debated and settled. Just four friends enjoying each other's company and subtly celebrating that they had once again cheated death and held back the darkness, if only for a little while.

It was one AM when Rick finally succumbed to a yawn, that quickly proved contagious. It had been a very long and trying day for everyone. "Much as I'm enjoying the conversation, I think it might be a good idea if we call it a night. Long day tomorrow. "Kate, would you mind showing Hayley to the guest suite?

She gave him a bright smile, "Not at all, Rick."

"Javier, you can take the green room if you'd like. Any other locations are strictly up to your negotiating skills." Everyone laughed knowing exactly what Rick was referring to, and causing Hayley to blush slightly." They carried the remnants of the meal in and stacked the dishes in the dishwasher. Javier retrieved his bag from the den, and headed up the stairs to the green room, which was just across the upstairs hall from the guest suite. Kate and Hayley followed shortly with Hayley carrying her overnight bag.

When Kate returned to the den, Rick was nowhere to be seen, so she shouldered her overnight bag and walked down the hall toward his bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, so she knocked softly and called "Rick, are you decent?

"No," he replied from inside, "But come in any way."

"Rick!"

"It's okay Kate" he chuckled, "come on in." She entered somewhat gingerly, finding him standing in his dressing room in boxers and a t-shirt. She immediately wondered if this was a good idea as a heat bomb seemed to explode in her abdomen. He turned toward her with a mischievous smile, "Do you want to arm-wrestle for who gets the shower first?"

"No thanks, you go ahead."He disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and she heard the sound of running water. While Rick was showering, Kate wrestled with her feelings about her decision to spend the night with Rick. The struggles had affected her even more than Rick had recognized and there was never a time in her memory that she wanted to spend the night alone less than she did at that precise moment. On the other hand, she remembered Tramayne's comment about the depth of Rick's feelings, and she knew that "platonic snoozing" was not really fair to him. It wasn't even really all that platonic, at least on her part. Probably not on his part either, if you got past his iron self-control.

She started searching through her bag for appropriate sleep wear. Laying aside the dark purple lace camisole set that Tramayne had helped her choose on their shopping trip the night before, she picked a simple coffee colored chemise and a pair of boy shorts; trying to give Rick's self-control as much of a break as possible.

She heard the door click open and turned to see Rick walking out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry. He was wearing a pair of training shorts and a sleeveless sweatshirt. She smiled to herself, it looked like he was trying to give her self control a break as well.

"Your turn Sparrow Hawk," he tossed her the towel, and as she passed him he touched her arm gently. "Would you do something for me?"

"Sure, what is it?"

"When you shower, don't do your hair."

"Huh?" that certainly wasn't what she had been expecting "You like my hair dirty and greasy?"

"No," he replied with a wink. "I want to do it for you."

"Rick Castle, you are not getting in the shower with me!"  
"Didn't say anything about getting in the shower, I'll do it at the sink"

"Are you serious?"

"I never joke about shampoo."

"Of course you don't," she giggled, "Okay Castle you're on. What do you want me to do?"

"When you finish showering, there's a terry robe on the back of the door, put that on over your sleep things and call me."

Kate could hardly enjoy the shower, her mind kept going back to incredible foot massage that had been her introduction to the magic in his fingertips. A shampoo somehow seemed even more intimate, and her breath caught in her throat in anticipation. She finished her shower much faster than her normally languid efforts. It would not be entirely fair to say that she rushed through the rest of her preparations, but there was precious little wasted time before she slipped on the robe and belted it tightly. Opening the door to call Rick, she startled slightly to find him leaning against the wall outside.

"I heard the shower cut off," he offered in explanation for his presence.

"Is that some kind of medieval torture device?" she indicated the contraption he was carrying.

"Oooh," he said, "I didn't know you liked the kinky stuff!"

"Rick!" her glare failed to stop him from stepping past her with his burden.

"It's a portable massage table," he informed her as he started to set it up next to the sink. His purpose became apparent as he adjusted the head end to the same level as the edge of the sink and dropped the foot end a few inches so she wouldn't feel like the blood was rushing to her head. She had moved to his side as he assembled the table, so he quickly grasped her by the waist and lifted her effortlessly, sitting her on the apparatus. "Now, just lay back and relax sweetheart, I've got this." One again, his powerful yet gentle hands did their magic, and soon, Kate was so relaxed, that she was fighting to stay awake. When he was finished, he wrapped her hair in a towel and helped her to sit up. She tried to scoot off the table, but her legs felt like spaghetti cooked well beyond al dente.

"God, Rick, what did you do to me?" she marveled.

"Just a massive dose of pampering sweetheart, did it work?

"If 'worked' means rendering me incapable of walking, then I would say it worked."

He laughed, "It'll wear off in a minute." Somehow she made it to the vanity, and picked up her hair dryer. While she was starting her nightly ritual, Rick folded the massage table and carried it away. The robe had gotten a little damp, so she took it off and hung it back on its hook behind the door. Returning to the vanity, she leaned over the sink to wash her face. A soft knock caught her attention, "Kate, are you decent?"

"No, but come in any way" she chuckled to herself as she leaned over to rinse. Eyes closed, she fumbled for the hand towel, and jerked upright with a gasp as a familiar hand guided hers to the object of her search. "Rick! What are you doing in here?"

"Uh…You told me to."

"I didn't mean for you to actually do it! It was a joke like before when you told me that."

"Kate, I wasn't joking before."

"Oh, and I guess you weren't checking me out while you were sneaking up on me?"

"I did not sneak up on you, I just naturally move quietly, force of habit I guess. As to the first accusation, guilty as charged, I conducted a very thorough 'checking out', very thorough indeed."

"And?"she demanded, feeling the heat rise to her face.  
He grinned, "Let's just say that it's a good thing I have a strong heart."  
On impulse, she stepped into him and his arms instinctively pulled her into a hug. "Just how strong is your heart anyway Mr. Castle?" she asked looking up trough her lashes.

"Very. I was kind of hoping you'd help me test the limits."

"Mr. Castle, you can take that one to the bank!" Without thinking, he scooped her up and carried her bridal style towards the bedroom. She squealed in surprise and started to resist, but her heart overruled her head, telling her that this was exactly where she needed to be at this moment. Rick felt her relax, and smiled as she tucked her head under his chin and brought her free hand up to grasp his neck. A few quick strides brought them to the bed and he placed her down almost reverently and released her with obvious reluctance. It seemed an eternity to Kate before he had turned off the lights and slid beneath the covers on the opposite side of the bed. The attraction between them was irresistible and they met in the center of the bed.

Rick was mildly surprised when she threw her arm across his chest and melted into his side. She sensed his surprise and murmured softly, "You know we're going to end up like this, so why waste time?"

"No argument from me, Sparrow Hawk. I love you."

"I love you too"

Tampa Wednesday November 15

Kate slowly drifted into wakefulness, feeling supremely warm and deliriously comfortable. Rick was still asleep and she lifted her head slightly to squint across his chest at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 7:00, still too early to get up. She studied his features, thinking that he looked much younger when he was relaxed. Awake, he always seemed to be carrying some invisible burden, and one who knew him well could see the strain in the set of his eyes and the tightness at the corners of his mouth. Last night, with Hayley and Javier had been the first time she had seen him truly relaxed, and that seemed to have carried over through the night. He had not suffered another nightmare and her own sleep had been deep and restful. This could be very habit-forming she thought sighing happily.

A faint noise from the den caught her attention, someone was stirring and something told her it was her best friend. Curiosity got the best of her and she decided to go investigate. Easier said than done she realized when she tried to move away. Rick's arm around her waist tightened instinctively and she found their legs were entangled in a veritable Gordian knot of solid muscle and smooth, soft flesh. She twisted to try to extricate herself and Rick started awake,"Kate, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, "I just need to go get something to drink, and I think Hayley may need me. Go back to sleep" She freed herself and belted on her robe as she left the room. Entering the den, she saw Hayley sitting on one of the couches with her knees drawn up to her chin. Kate sat next to her friend, noticing the tear tracks on her cheeks. "What's wrong girlfriend?"

Hayley sobbed softly, "I love him."

"Whoa girl, you lost me, isn't that a good thing?"

"Yes, but he probably hates me now."  
"Wow, why don't you start at the beginning and tell me exactly what happened?"

I had a terrible nightmare about the bombs, he heard me and came and woke me up and held me while I tried to calm down."

"That sounds sweet," Kate was a bit puzzled.

"It was, except I was half asleep, and really scared….and I kind of came onto him…really strong."

"What did he do?"

"He said no, that if we ever had a first time, he wanted it to be special, not because I was freaked out because of a nightmare."

"I'm still not seeing the major problem here."

"He probably thinks I'm some kind of cheap floozy!"

"I'm almost positive that's not the case…." Kate looked up to see Javier standing a few feet behind the couch, his face registering total shock. "I think I'll go make some coffee," Hayley nodded despondently as Kate rose and walked toward the kitchen. As she passed Javier, she gave his arm a slight squeeze and nodded toward Hayley. Entering the kitchen, she glanced back to see Javier kneeling in front of the couch, holding Hayley's hands and talking earnestly. Kate smiled , her friend was in good hands.

She quickly brewed two mugs of coffee and carried them to the den, By this time, Javier had migrated to the couch and the two were leaning into each other and Javier was gently stroking her hair. She set the two mugs on the coffee table and they acknowledged her offering with happy smiles

Returning to the kitchen, she searched for a few minutes and found an apron to slip on over her robe. It wasn't until she had tied it around her waist that she noticed the lettering embroidered across the front, 'Cooks Do It in the Kitchen'. A burst of warmth settled in her abdomen. Not today Mr. Castle she thought, but someday, yes indeed someday. Opening the fridge, she found the ingredients for huevos rancheros and started to slice and chop the tomatoes, onions and bell peppers. Thirty minutes later, breakfast awaited only the final preparation. Kate brewed another mug of coffee and walked to Rick's bedroom, intending to awaken him. When she entered the room, she found his bed empty. "Good morning beautiful" he greeted her as he stepped out of his dressing room, "Is that for me?" indicating the fragrant steaming mug in her hand.

"Yes, and so is this," she stood on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. "Breakfast is ready."

"Okay, let's go," He took the mug and sipped appreciatively as he followed her back to the kitchen. It only took a minute to plate the eggs and she passed a plate to each before she seated herself at the island bar between Rick and Hayley. There was an almost reverent silence as everyone savored Kate's cooking. Rick and Javier finished first and tried to steal extra from their ladies. They were mostly unsuccessful due to the stout defense mounted by Kate and Hayley. After they finished eating, they sat for a few minutes, savoring their coffee. Rick finally broke the silence, "We can leave whenever you guys are ready."

"How exactly are we getting there Rick?" Hayley asked.  
Rick grinned, "I'm flying us down."

"Are we going in the plane we went to Baltimore in?" Kate questioned.

"No, the Gulfstream is a bit large for my personal use, and it actually belongs to the Institute. We're going in my personal aircraft, a Cirrus Vision jet."

"How long will it take?"

"A little over an hour ," he laughed "No meals or movies."

"If you want to clean up," Kate batted her lashes at him, "I'll go get dressed."

"No problem," he looked to Javier and Hayley, "You guys go ahead, and I've got this."

The aircraft waiting on the tarmac took Kate's breath away. Her flying experience had mainly consisted of jumbo jets and twin engine turboprop puddle jumpers. Like most of the flying public her interest in the actual aircraft was limited to hoping it didn't fall out of the sky. This one however, could not be so blithely ignored; it had to be the aeronautical equivalent of a Ferrari. Its sleekness spoke of speed and the dark gunmetal blue paint scheme with platinum accent stripes radiated understated elegance. She noticed that Rick was watching her with a combination of amusement and approval. "Your plane is amazing. It's got to be one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen."

"Thank you and she flies even better than she looks." Rick and Javier finished carrying the luggage to the plane. Just as they finished, a middle-aged man in coveralls exited the nearby hangar and walked up to Rick. "Hello Jake" Rick greeted the man with a handshake.

"Good Morning Mr. Castle, the bird's ready to fly, I gave her a good going over."  
"Thanks, that's good enough for me Jake." Javier handed Jake the keys to the Navigator. "Jake, do you mind parking the car in the hangar until we get back on Sunday?"

"No sir, not at all, hope y'all have a nice trip."  
"Kate, you can take the co-pilots seat up front with me. Javier and Hayley can take the back seat." Rick instructed, as he began his pre-flight inspection. As Kate approached the cabin door, she noticed for the first time, the nose-art just to the left of the open door. The sight brought her to a sudden halt with a gasp of surprise. A falcon was depicted in striking position, wings captured at the moment of unfolding, talons extended for the kill, eyes focused with laser intensity on an imaginary target. Not just any falcon; it was sleek and compact with rufous highlights over buff-colored body and a sprinkling of black bars. The back and wings were slate gray. It was an American kestrel, more commonly known as a sparrow hawk. Ounce for ounce the deadliest predator in the skies. Underneath the image, an italic cursive script spelled out Sparrow Hawk I. Kate's sudden stop caused Hayley to stumble into her. She followed Kate's gaze and smiled, "Awww!"

Javier's muttered comment sounded suspiciously like "Whipped."

Rick finished his walk-around to find that his passengers were still not aboard, but rather were admiring the nose art. He looked first for Kate. I hope she doesn't think it's too cheesy. He needn't have worried; she reached out gently tracing its outline.

"It's beautiful," she breathed.

"Beautiful," he agreed, "and wild and free and dangerous." Wide eyes met his and her unspoken question flashed across the few feet of crisp morning air that separated them, Is that really how you think of me? Do you really love me that much? Actual head movement could only have been measured by instruments of extraordinary sensitivity, but to Kate, his answering nod was both clear and emphatic. Yes and yes.

Rick brought them back to the present by herding his friends toward the open door. "Let's get going folks, the Keys aren't getting any closer."

Javier helped Hayley in and settled himself next to her, handing her a pair of headphones before donning his own and showing her how the intercom worked. Kate followed and settled into the right-hand co-pilot's seat. By the time Rick secured the door, she had figured out how the seat belts worked and donned her own headphones.

Rick opened a storage compartment and presented Kate with a pair of sunglasses. "It gets pretty bright up there." She smiled her thanks as he donned his own 20 year-old pair of Ray Ban Aviators. A sudden feeling of disquieting deja vu intruded on his thoughts, and he tried to shake it off. He looked at Kate, her hazel eyes brimming with life and bright with curiosity. Realization hit with almost painful force; the last woman whom he'd shared a cockpit with, fifteen long years in the past, was Tori Ellis, so much like Kate in all the ways that really mattered.

"What's wrong Rick?" Kate's voice, laden with concern pulled him out of his incipient funk.

He gave her a half smile, "We're not good at hiding things from each other are we?"

"That's good, right?"

"Very good."

"So what's wrong?"

"Just a little deja vu, the last time there was a woman in the co-pilot's seat was not a happy day."

"When was that?"

"Fifteen years ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Yeah." He handed her a laminated card, "Want to help me with the preflight checks?"

"Sure." The momentary worry faded from her eyes, quickly replaced by the adventurous glint that he loved. They went through the engine start section and Rick started the engines, which settled into a muted whistle. The next section was quickly completed and Rick called for clearance to taxi. Clearance received, he advanced the throttle and Sparrow Hawk I started rolling. Rick had Kate put her feet on the rudder pedals so she could feel directly how he was controlling the aircraft with his feet while taxiing

When they reached the 'Hold Short' line, he braked to a halt and turned slightly toward her. "Wanna take her up?" he grinned.


	90. Chapter 90

The look she gave him was priceless, one he would never forget. Desire, exhilaration, a tiny tickle of fear, but mostly surprise. Sheer realization of previously unanticipated possibility. Surprise as total as if he had suggested that they engage in group sex with leprechauns.

"Are you serious?!"

"A Sparrow Hawk has to fly, and I never joke about either Sparrow Hawks or flying."

"OK," she whispered. "What do I do?"

"Right hand on the joystick, left hand on the throttle, I'll work the pedals as long as we're on the ground; that takes lots of practice." He chuckled softly as the tendons on the back of her hand bulged and the skin of her knuckles blanched. "If you use too tight a grip," he prompted gently, "It makes your movements all jerky. Hold the stick the way you'd hold a woman."

He chuckled at her glare. "Okay, maybe that metaphor doesn't resonate with you as much as it does with me." The follow-up glare was more token than real. "I know…. hold it like a baby bird."

#

Kate nodded and willed herself to relax.

Rick received clearance and fed in enough throttle to roll onto the runway, he turned the aircraft smoothly to align with the center of the concrete ribbon that disappeared into the heat haze shimmering in the distance. "Whenever you're ready, push the throttle all the way forward and put a little forward pressure on the stick."

Kate took a deep breath and advanced the throttle. The response was instantaneous as the engine song increased to a whistling roar and Rick released the brakes. The little jet accelerated like a thoroughbred from the starting gate and Kate's slender body was pressed forcefully into the seat back. Her heart beat an exhilarated tattoo in her chest as Rick pointed to the speed display, already climbing past 70 knots. "When this gets to 85 knots, start easing back."

She nodded and at the indicated speed she eased back on the stick and suddenly she was flying. "Keep it just like that." Rick prompted as he raised the landing gear and retracted the flaps. Without the drag of the landing gear, the plane continued to accelerate, climbing like a homesick angel. Kate was trying desperately not to hyperventilate. _Oh my God, that was incredible_. "You're doing great sweetheart, but right now we're headed towards Houston, so we have to make a turn."

"Okay, what do I do now?"

"First back off the throttle a bit; we're not trying to set a time to altitude record." She complied. "Yeah, that's good for now." He pointed to the heading indicator on her display, currently showing 272. "We want to turn left to a course of 170 degrees, so what I want you to do is put a little left pressure on the stick until this number," he pointed to the turn bank indicator, "Reads 20 degrees, and hold it until the heading equals 170. Then bring the stick back to center and the bank angle will read 0."

"Got it." _I think_.

"Whenever you're ready." She twitched the stick to the left and the plane snapped into a 30-degree bank. Rick remained quiet as Kate corrected and tried a number of small almost unnoticeable adjustments to get the feel of the stick. She quickly settled on 20 degrees and came out the turn precisely on 170 degrees. _Yes!_ she exulted.

"Nice job." Rick said, grinning. "You're a natural." He called up his preset flight plan and engaged the autopilot. "You can relax Kate."

She sank back into her seat and wiggled her fingers to work out the tension. "Thank you for letting me do that Rick that was amazing, my heart's still racing."

"Well, we got about an hour for me to teach you how to land."

 _Sparrow Hawk I_ touched down at Key West International Airport with two small puffs of smoke from the main gear, followed shortly by nose gear touch down as Kate eased forward on the stick, and allowed Rick to take over steering and braking. Kate's heart was racing. _What a rush_.

Rick looked at her with a wide, delighted grin. "I guess now you'll want to take flying lessons." He teased.

"Yeah, I can't wait to do this again, it was incredible. Can you teach me?"

"Sure, I hold an instructor certificate" Rick brought the plane to a stop near a waiting helicopter.

"Are we going to fly in the helicopter?" Kate inquired.

"Yes," Rick replied, "The only way to get where we're going is by helicopter or by boat." When Rick lowered the Jet's boarding steps, a young man in a flight suit climbed out of the helicopter and walked over to meet Rick. Kate was close enough to hear their conversation. "Jared, how are you."

"Just fine Mr. Rick, how do you like the new bird?"

"Looks great, how's business?"

"It's really taken off since we got this bird; it's by far the nicest helicopter in the keys. Thanks for convincing Mom to buy it."

Rick shrugged, "It didn't really take all that much convincing, and how is your Mom by the way."

"Same as always, she had a charter today that she couldn't get out of or she would have been here."

"Give her my love and maybe we'll catch her on the return trip."

"Yes sir, can I help with your bags?"

"Sure, thanks." With Jared helping, the bags were quickly transferred, and everyone settled into the comfortable seats. The helicopter lifted off and headed north toward Big Pine Key. Fifteen minutes later, the pilot began to descend and started to circle. Kate looked questioningly to Rick. He leaned over. "Welcome to Gunslinger Key" he stated pointing to the island they were circling.

"You have your own Key?" she asked, violating her resolution to never be surprised by anything related to Rick.

"Well technically half owner."

Kate studied the island as the pilot made one more circuit. The Island looked to be somewhere between 100 and 200 acres, mostly wooded. She could see three houses, two large ones, one at each end of the island and a smaller one in the center. The helicopter landing pad was near the smaller house. She also noticed a long pier on the seaward side. Several boats were moored to the pier. "Why are there three houses?" she asked.

"The one on the north end of the island belongs to Vienna and Akahiro. The one on the south end is mine, and the smaller one is where the caretaker lives."

The helicopter turned into the wind and settled gently onto the landing pad. The pilot killed the engines and the rotors spun down. Jared jumped out and opened the cabin door, offering a hand to Kate and Hayley as the exited. Kate looked around taking in the surroundings. From the landing pad a gravel path ran north and south disappearing into the trees. Over the trees in both directions she could see the roofs of the other houses. The most interesting thing, however, was the welcoming committee. A man and two boys stood waiting beside two four seat four-wheelers. The older man had skin as dark as the inside of a coal mine. His hair was starting to turn gray and he was dressed in crisply pressed khaki pants and a white button-down shirt. Rick strode forward to meet him. "Gizo kale rafiki" Rick addressed him before the two shared a man hug. She noticed that the man's left arm was a prosthesis, a pretty high tech one from what she could see.

"It's good to see you LT" Kate thought she detected a hint of a British accent when he spoke. Rick waved her and Hayley forward.

"Ladies let me introduce you to an old friend. This is Kenan Bah. He is the caretaker for the property. Kenan this is Special Agents Kate Beckett and Hayley Shipton of the FBI."

"I'm honored ladies" he responded as he shook hands with each. "Ni wewe kwenda kwa kuoa yake?" he addressed Rick.

Rick seemed a bit surprised by the question, but answered "Mungu tayari." Kenan laughed and shook his head.

While they had been talking, Javier, Jared and the two teenage boys, Kate guessed theywere Kenan's sons, had transferred their luggage to the four-wheelers and the two boys were sitting in the driver's seats, waiting. They all climbed into the vehicles which immediately headed south along the graveled path. When they rolled out of the trees and got a good look at Rick's house, both Kate and Hayley responded with a quick intake of breath, it was beautiful, and Kate suddenly couldn't wait to see inside. The house was an expansive Keys style bungalow, sitting about eight feet above the ground on pilings. The walls were covered with naturally aged cypress shingles, while the roof was a forest green metal. A large screened porch encircled the house and a wide set of steps led up to the front entrance.

The drivers stopped the vehicles at the foot of the steps and with the help of the drivers, managed to get all their luggage to the front door in one trip. Rick placed his forefinger on a small glass plate mounted to the left of the door and the door clicked open. Kate had lofty expectations as she carried her luggage into the house, and her first look did not disappoint. The house was a post and beam construction with heart pine floors and exposed beams supporting a tongue and groove ceiling that matched the floors. The center section of the house was a large open space that included the kitchen, a dining area and a sitting area. Several doors opened off this area on either side, or a spiral staircase passed through an opening in the ceiling.

Rick pointed to the first door on the left. "The master suite is through there, I believe you have a reservation."

"I believe I do." She flashed him an impish grin and disappeared through the indicated doorway with her luggage. Twenty minutes later, she returned to the main room and found Rick sitting at the kitchen bar nursing a cup of coffee. She slid onto the stool next to him and he turned to her and chuckled softly.

"What's so funny?" she asked with a huff.

"You have that 'I have questions and want answers' look. It's adorable by the way."

"Well you're right about the questions, I have tons of them."

"Shoot." He prompted.

"You asked the pilot about his mother?" _And told him to give her your love._

"Jared's dad was killed at Ludovic. Like all the guys who were with me at that fight, I've tried to make sure their families were looked after. Jared's mom, Josie, was Airforce, a Combat Search and Rescue pilot. Seemed like a no brainer for her to start a charter air service."

"Did it do well?' Kate questioned, marveling marveled once again at Rick's care for his friends.

"It did okay, Jared thought there was a demand for more luxurious accommodations than the Jet Ranger they started the business with."

I had my finance people at The Institute checkout the situation. They agreed with Jsred that a niche existed for a luxury helicopter service."

"Josie's pretty conservative, but I eventually convinced her to give it a try. We worked out a lease/purchase deal for a Sikorsky S-76. Incidentally, the one we flew in to the island on."

"Business is good, right?"

"Excellent. Next question."

"Okay, what language were you talking to the caretaker in, I didn't recognize it?"

"Swahili, Kenan was born in Kenya, so Swahili is his native tongue."

"How did you learn it? "

"Kenan taught me, I helped him with his English and he taught me Swahili.

"May I ask what you said to him?"

"Sure, I said 'Hello darkness my old friend'."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's a long story."

Kate shifted to make herself more comfortable, "I've got awhile" she prompted.

"Okay, as I said, Kenan was born in Kenya. His father was a poacher, and he taught Kenan everything he knew. Kenya gives game wardens the authority to summarily execute any poachers they capture, so the poachers that survive are both very good and very lucky. Kenan's dad was one of the best, and his oldest son bade fair to be even better. But one day his luck ran out and he was captured and executed. They then went looking for the rest of the family, Kenan knew what would happen if they got caught, so at fifteen he led his mother and four younger siblings on a 200-mile trek through Kenya's Northern Frontier District and into Ethiopia, which is a heck of a story in and of itself. In Ethiopia, they were rounded up and put in a UN refugee camp. Then, by a huge stroke of luck his family was sponsored by a church in Columbia, South Carolina and they were able to come to the U.S. They had a rough time assimilating and finding jobs, so on the day he turned 18, he went to the recruiting center and joined the Marines.

He was an exemplary Marine and he sent his pay each month to his mother which eased some of burden she had been carrying alone. In 1992, he was promoted to Lance Corporal and assigned to my Force Recon platoon. It didn't take me long to figure out this guy was a gem. He was smart, tough, absolutely fearless and the only person I ever met who could out sneak me." He paused for a sip of coffee. "Have you ever read Maneaters of Tsavo?"

"No," Kate replied, "Never heard of it."

"It's about two lions that were killing peoplein wholesale lots and seemed to have an almost supernatural ability to avoid being shot or captured. The locals called them "The Ghost and the Darkness." After my platoon had been operating in the northeast section of Bosnia for a couple of months, the Serbs got frustrated at how we avoided every trap they set for us, and they started referring to Kenan and me as "The Ghost and the Darkness" my greeting was a mark of respect."

"Wow," Kate responded, "What an incredible story. How did he get to be your caretaker?"

"He was with me at Ludovic; he was seriously wounded and lost an arm which seriously restricted his employment opportunities. When the money started pouring in to the Institute, I looked up everyone that was with me that day and made sure their families were taken care of. I knew Kenan had always been interested in fishing, so this was the perfect spot. Also, it didn't hurt that I had faced death with him so often and I trusted him implicitly."

"Family" Kate spoke with certainty.

"Yep"

"He asked you a question and you seemed surprised."

Rick cleared his throat, "He...uh...asked me if I was going to marry you."

"And you said?"

"I said 'God willing'."

"What did you mean by that," Kate asked, a bit puzzled.

"I meant that only divine intervention could prevent it."

"Oh." A wave of warmth swept through her body and she met his gaze. _Why don't you just ask me_?

"Soon my love, soon." He murmured, knowing what she was thinking.

"Okay, just don't wait too long."

Javier and Hayley wandered back into the main room and joined Rick and Kate at the bar. "What's the agenda?" Javier asked.

Rick glanced at his watch, 11:39. "Jordan should get here about 5:00 or so. We can't really start the main event until she gets here. What do you say to lunch about 12:30 then free time until Jordan arrives?" they all nodded.

"When is Vienna arriving?" Kate inquired.

"Oh, she's already here. She and Akahiro and the kids came down day before yesterday. They've been getting in some quality family time. They'll be over for dinner tonight."

Javier turned to Hayley, "How about a quick swim before lunch?"

"Sounds good." Hayley agreed

"Pool or ocean?"

"Pool for now." Hayley and Javier disappeared back to their bedrooms to change.

"Where does the spiral staircase go, Rick?" Kate asked.

"There's a rooftop bar and private sun deck. Be the perfect spot for a little nude sunbathing." He winked.

"In your dreams Castle." She retorted.

"I've never dreamed about that, but I'd be glad to add it to my playlist."

"You're impossible." She sighed.

"Want to go for a swim?"

"Trying to see me in a bikini, Mr. Castle?"

"Can't blame a guy for trying."

"Actually, I'm thinking of a walk on the beach."

At Kate's nod, Rick took her hand and led her through the kitchen and out onto the deck. They kicked their shoes off and stepped off into the sugar-white sand. When they reached the harder packed sand exposed by the last high tide, they turned and walked south. Rick could feel the tension in her hand, but he knew she would tell him what was bothering her when she was ready. They had walked maybe a quarter of a mile in silence, when Kate suddenly stopped and closed the distance between them and laid her head on his chest. His arms automatically enfolded her and she moaned softly at the feel of him. They had stood there for several minutes, when she looked up and asked, "Tonight is going to change everything isn't it?"

"Yeah it is," he admitted, "Everything but one."

"And that would be?"

"The fact that I love you more than life itself. Nothing will ever change that."

"I know, it's just the waiting is driving me crazy."

"If it makes you feel any better, I've been waiting for this meeting for almost twenty years."

"Does this go back to your court-martial?"

"Before that."

"Bandar Deylam, then?"

Realization hit him like a bucket of arctic sea water. "You know about that?" He choked out. She nodded tentatively.

"How…?"

"FBI, remember. It's what I do."

"But the records were supposed to be sealed."

"They were. We kind of went in through the back door."

"You and Hayley, I assume? _When those two are together there's so much brainpower, it's a wonder they don't spontaneously combust_.

"Yeah. She found someone who was there, and we heard the whole story straight from an eyewitness."

"Who…?" he wondered.

"Her uncle George."

"Hayley's uncle was at Bandar Deylam?" Kate nodded. "Wait…George….George Shipton?" Kate nodded again. "I can't believe I didn't make the connection."

"Did you know him?" Kate questioned.

"Only to speak to, he was a platoon leader in A Company."

"He said you should have received the Medal of Honor for what you did."

Rick grunted "Well, it's nice to feel appreciated, but you know how that worked out."

"I'm sorry."

"Water under the bridge." Rick replied with a shrug. They walked on, coming eventually to the extreme southern end of the island. There were a fair number of shells scattered about on the sand and Kate dropped his hand and darted about inspecting each shell that caught her eye and discarding the ones that were damaged. Rick stood and watched, appreciating the child-like wonder and innocence that had surfaced unexpectedly. He hoped it would be a regular guest, but considering what they would unveil tonight, he had his doubts. She soon came wandering back with a double handful of shells.

"What are you grinning about?" she asked.

"You, you looked so happy and carefree for a few minutes there. It looked good on you."

"I used to love hunting for shells when I was a little girl. My parents had a beach house, and I would spend hours scouring the beaches for that perfect shell for my collection."

"Let's see what you've got there." She held her cupped hands so he could see. There were a dozen or so beautiful little cowrie shells, but it was the single large shell that captured his attention. It was about four inches long and tightly spiraled. The background was cream colored with spirals of almost square brownish spots. He picked it up and examined it almost reverently.

"Do you know what that is?" Kate asked, looking inquiringly at Rick, "I've never seen one of them before."

"That's because it's extremely rare. It's a _Scaphella junonia_ and they live far offshore in deep water and usually only wash up after hurricanes. Then they are usually pretty beat up. This one is perfect. It would be worth several thousand dollars to a collector."

"Seriously?" Her gaze met Rick's and he nodded emphatically.

"Here let me have the shells." Rick stuffed the shells in one of the side pockets of his cargo shorts where it made a conspicuous bulge.

Kate giggled, and Rick looked at her with a puzzled expression, after all, he only took the shells so they could hold hands on the rest of their walk. "Is that a _Scaphella junonia_ in your pocket," she barely got out between giggles, "Or were you thinking about me in a bikini?"

"Kate!"

"Sorry, but I've wanted to use that line ever since I saw the movie."

"You're going to pay for that." He growled in mock severity and reached for her. She suddenly took off running like a gazelle. Looking back over her shoulder, she challenged,

"You have to catch me first." He knew he couldn't catch her, but he also knew she would be disappointed if he didn't chase her. He swung into the ground-eating lope that he had learned in the Marines and soon arrived at the house.

Kate was sitting on the front steps with a huge grin on her face.

"Hey, old man. Thought you'd never get here," She greeted him.

"I've got an idea."

She looked at him skeptically.

"Let's do that again, except this time we'll carry seventy-five-pound packs and start 20 miles away. I'll even give you a mile head start."

"Okay, I'll concede that one. Maybe the 'old man' comment was a little wide of the mark."

"A little?'

"Okay, a lot. Satisfied now?" Kate rolled her eyes.

"I won't really be satisfied until you give me a chance to prove it in a more relaxed atmosphere." Rick smirked.

"Rick!"

"Just saying sweetheart, no pressure. Now let's go have some lunch."

Rick's phone signaled an incoming text, and he laid down his cards before retrieving the phone from his pocket. Rick, and his guests had decided to pass the time since lunch with a Texas Hold'em tournament. Rick was starting to place more credence in Kate's claim that Hayley possessed psychic powers. She was about $2000 dollars ahead, Kate was close to even and Rick and Javier were a thousand down each. The woman simply could not be bluffed, and she executed her own bluffs with the cold, nerveless precision of a hungry tiger shark.

The incoming text was from Jordan Shaw and said simply "ETA 15 Min."

"That was from Jordan," Rick informed his friends, I'm going to head down to the pad to meet her. Y'all can come if you want." Kate looked at Hayley and they both nodded, the woman was their ultimate boss after all. Rick kept a couple of four wheelers at the house, and they were soon rolling down the path toward the landing pad. Parking at the edge of the pad, they heard the approaching helicopter and it soon appeared over the trees. "Now that's interesting," Rick said softly.

"What is it Rick?" Kate queried, hearing his comment and noting the puzzled expression on his face.

"It's a Coast Guard helicopter, a Eurocopter Dauphin; it's a heavy-duty search and rescue chopper, not really set up for passengers. Just not what I expected that's all." The pilot turned smartly into the wind and the helicopter settled perfectly onto the exact center of the pad. Rick nodded appreciatively; skill was skill, regardless of what the name on the outside said. The rotors spun down and a crewman reached up to hand their passenger down. She was dressed in a dark blue business suit and cream-colored silk blouse. Her long strawberry blonde hair was coiled into a tight bun and she carried a slim leather briefcase in addition to her handbag. She located the welcoming committee and walked toward the group with an erect, purposeful stride. She was wearing a warm smile, but any halfway sentient being would unerringly pick her out of the crowd as the boss. Power and authority worn lightly is still power and authority after all. Rick moved to meet her when she had covered about half the distance.

She walked into his open arms and he hugged her tightly, then lifted her off the ground and spun her around until she squealed, "Rick put me down, you're ruining my image." He set her down and she stretched slightly to kiss him on the cheek.

#

Kate wondered if Hayley's look of total shock was mirrored by her own. She knew Rick and Jordan were close, but only Rick would have the nerve to engage in such a blatant display of affection. More impressive yet was the fact that he got away with it. Kate felt a mild wave of jealousy flood her mind for an instant, but it was nothing compared to the next one. After Rick introduced Jordan to the rest of the team, she turned to him with a smile, "I hope you don't mind Rick, but I took it upon myself to invite another member to our meeting."

Rick nodded his acquiescence and Jordan looked over his shoulder "Ahh, here she is now." Kate's attention shifted to the newcomer standing a few paces behind Rick. A woman in a Coast Guard blue flight suit, stood there. She was a bit taller than Kate, and her skin was well-tanned, and her short-cropped hair was jet black. Age-wise she appeared to be about Kate's age or perhaps a few years older. Kate acknowledged that she was a strikingly beautiful woman, and she also noticed the silver eagles on her flight suit rank tabs. She wasn't sure what rank that signified, but she suspected it was fairly high. Kate finished her inspection just as Rick turned to meet the woman. He first noticed the rank insignia and acknowledged her "Captain." Then he took a closer look at her face, now fighting to hold back a smile, and his eyes went wide and his jaw dropped. "Tori? Tori!" He was on her in an instant, crushing her in a hug that left her breathless and lifting her and spinning until she pounded his shoulders with her fists to get him to stop.

"Rick, you always were a little crazy" she laughed. "At first, I didn't think you were going to recognize me."

"I'm sorry, but you were the last person I was expecting when I turned around. Now look at you, a captain no less."

Another man left the helicopter and walked over to join them. He was short and barrel-chested, with salt and pepper gray hair. This one was not wearing a flight suit, but rather the dress uniform of a master chief petty officer. Javier recognized him first, "Fernandez!" and ran to meet him, sharing a man hug and pounding each other on the shoulders. Then Rick recognized his erstwhile tail gunner and joined in the celebration.

Jordan and Tori had gone to their rooms to freshen up before dinner. Kate was still struggling with jealousy. "Rick, how is it that all the women you know, and you seem to know a lot of them, are all drop dead gorgeous? Aren't you seriously distorting the law of averages here?"

'Does that mean that you're finally admitting that you're drop dead gorgeous?'

"What, no I…"

"You're a woman, right?"

"Yes, but I…"

"And you're part of the group 'All the women I know', right?"

"Yes, but I…"

"Then, logically, you are drop dead gorgeous."

"You're impossible", she spat out as she stood and ran through the door and onto the deck.

Rick looked at Hayley, who was giving him the death glare. "Congratulations hot shot, you just reduced your girlfriend to a piece of meat in a beauty pageant lineup."

"Huh….Oh."

"Yeah, now go fix it before I have to shoot you."

He hurried out and found Kate sitting on the end of the pier, her feet dangling over the water. She was staring at the horizon and didn't react when he sat beside her, close but not touching. "I'm sorry Kate; I was trying to win an argument when I should have shown you that your feelings were important to me."

"Who is that Tori person?" She asked softly.

"Tori Ellis, she was my copilot at Bandar Deylam. The last time I saw her was at the court-martial. I was totally shocked to see her today."

"Oh, that's why you acted so…. exuberantly?"

"Yeah."

"I was just so jealous, two beautiful, powerful women, first Jordan then Tori, I didn't know how I could possibly compete with them."

He reached up and gently turned her head to face him. "The game's over, sweetheart, and you won. There's no competition. Actually, there never was."

"Promise?"

"On my honor."

"Mr. Castle?"

"Yes."

"Shut up and kiss me."

#

Rick Castle had survived more life or death situations than a man had any right to expect. One of the main contributors to his survival was his ability to act decisively, to do what needed to be done without hesitation. When he realized what Kate was saying, his instinctive reaction was to grab her and kiss the bejeebers out of her before she changed her mind, and so he did. The hand which had been cupping her cheek slid behind her neck and gently but firmly pulled her toward him. She came willingly, even eagerly, and their lips met with an almost tangible spark that left them breathless and tingling. He reached over and scooped her up, lifting her on to his lap. Her hands were flat on his chest and his cupped her jaw, pulling her forward slowly and deliberately. He stopped with their lips barely a quarter of an inch apart savoring the feel of her pulse pounding under his fingers and the slight tremor in her neck muscles as every neuron in her body seemed to fire at once. She whimpered in need and he eased forward until their lips met again. The same surge of energy rippled through his body overriding all sensation but the velvet softness of her lips. When the need for oxygen overcame passion, they separated slightly, gasping for breath. Rick trembled slightly at the loss of contact, and she gave him a brilliant smile, knowing the effect she had on him.

Smiling seemed to be all her body was capable of at the moment, her limbs felt weak and boneless. All sensation seemed to focus on where he had touched her leaving a lingering fire that faded slowly but deliciously to a tiny residual glow. She knew that Rick had been gentle with her, which she appreciated; but she suddenly wondered what other tricks he might have up his sleeve. The very thought made her quiver in anticipation. She laid her head against his chest. "Rick?"

"Hmm."

"That kiss defies description, I can't find the words."

####

Hayley tried to respect Kate's privacy but her curiosity eventually became overpowering and she walked to the window and peered out. She was just in time to see Rick lift Kate onto his lap and the kiss that followed. Her impromptu happy dance attracted Javier's attention, and he sauntered over to see what she was so excited about. Hayley just pointed out the window, and he peered out just catching the end of the kiss. "Looks like he fixed it," he observed.

####

Rick was debating going back for round three when he heard the sound of an approaching four-wheeler. "I hate to say it, but that's our cue to go get ready for dinner," He murmured.

"I could stay here all night, but I guess duty calls" Kate agreed. They stood and walked hand in hand back toward the house. He stole one last kiss at the door. Entering the house, they saw that Jordan and Tori had joined Javier, Hayley and Vienna in the sitting area, while Akahiro and his kids were working industriously in the kitchen. Rick went to greet Akahiro and the kids before returning to the sitting area and taking an open seat beside Kate. Jordan had changed into a pair of capri pants and a horizontal stripe knit top. She had let her hair down and secured it into a simple pony tail. Tori had also changed, in her case into jeans and a Coast Guard t-shirt.

Can I get you two something to drink? Vienna asked.

Rick motioned Kate ahead, "Mojito, please"

"Bourbon and branch" Rick added.

####

While Vienna was preparing their drinks, Kate studied the two older women. Though outwardly relaxed, there was an underlying sense of tension and one might even say fear, or at least worry. She could see it in the set of their shoulders and the way their eyes seemed shuttered, concealing their innermost thoughts. She wondered if they were both worried about the same thing and what could so affect two very strong women. Vienna arrived with their drinks, interrupting her thoughts. _Oh well, I guess I'll find out soon enough as that seems to be what this meeting is all about_. She sat back and sipped her drink, listening to Jordan's hilarious stories about the goings on in the Congress. Soon Akahiro called them to dinner and they seated themselves at the long bar that separated the kitchen from the sitting area. Rick had a hibachi grill in his kitchen and Akahiro proceeded to put on a show worthy of Cirque de Soleil as he expertly prepared vegetables rice, filet mignon, lobster, shrimp and yellowtail snapper. For his grand finale, he asked the ladies to open their mouths and he nochalantly flipped a flaming shrimp at each. The flames flickered out just before reaching each one and landed unerringly in their open mouths. The applause was deafening and he bowed appreciatively. Everyone pitched in to clean up the kitchen and load the dishwasher. Akahiro and the kids took their leave amidst much hugging and back slapping. Everyone wandered back into the sitting area. It was time.

Jordan found herself the center of attention and so without preamble, she began. "Everyone here has been selected to make up a team. A team whose mission may well determine the future of civilization. I do not say that lightly, because not since the barbarian invasions destroyed the Roman Empire has there been a greater threat. I said you had been selected, mostly by me since the team will officially report to me. In the selection process I relied heavily on Rick's input, since he and I were essentially the charter members of the team. I have a signed executive order from the president authorizing the existence of this team and authorizing me to recruit whatever resources are necessary." She paused a moment and sipped her rum and Coke before continuing.

"Since some of you do not know the background of how and why this team was formed, I'll take a few minutes to bring everyone up to speed. " She took a deep breath, steadying her nerves for what she knew would be a difficult time for some of her audience. "It all began in July 2001. The official story is that CIA determined that the Iranians were going to smuggle some nuclear warheads into the Shiite dominated area of Iraq. Their plan was to get within range to launch a massive first strike against Israel. The president and his advisers determined to carry out a surprise 'snatch and grab' using a Marine special ops battalion. The battalion assigned to the mission was the Sea Dragon battalion commanded by Colonel William Bracken. The plan developed by Col. Bracken was seriously flawed."

At that statement, Rick couldn't suppress a growl of disgust. Kate put her hand on his thigh and squeezed, _I'm here, love._ He covered her hand with his and interlaced the fingers continued, "In addition to a flawed plan, the Sea Dragons had another problem, they walked into a well-planned ambush. Instead of the hundred or so security troops that were supposed to be there, it turned out be a full regiment of the Revolutionary Guard and what we now believe was a Russian mechanized battalion with an attached tank company equipped with tanks of the very latest design. In addition, later in the battle, a squadron of Havoc helicopter gunships got involved. We now believe that they were Russian as well. Within minutes of the beginning of the attack, the commander, Col. Bracken had abandoned his troops and fled. B Company of the Sea Dragons had been wiped out to the last man, A Company was under heavy pressure as they proceeded to transfer the crates containing the purported warheads to their hovercraft, and C company was pinned down in a firefight with Iranian infantry that outnumbered them by at least six to one. At this point the mechanized battalion and tank company made their appearance.

The outcome at this point could hardly be in doubt; the entire battalion would have been destroyed. I say 'would have been', because of a timely and rather decisive intervention by an armed V-22 Osprey piloted by then Captain Castle and Lt. Ellis. As a result of their efforts, approximately one third of the battalion were able to fight their way out of the trap and reach the amphibious assault ship U.S.S. Wasp which was waiting offshore. Any questions so far?"

Hayley raised her hand. Ma'am, how did we find out they were Russian?"

"First of all, this week I'm just Jordan, Ma'am makes me feel old. For your actual question, I'll let Vienna handle that one."

Vienna responded, "We were able to get copies of the NSA intercepts during the engagement at Bandar Deylam. There was an awful lot of radio traffic in Russian and my analyst's were able to match the transmissions up with the mech battalion, the tank company and the Havoc Squadron. Another data point is that the equipment we identified was current first-line Russian equipment, for which there are no export versions. There's no way the Russians would give or sell T-90's to Iran."

Hayley followed up, "So did the Iranian's recruit the Russians to help pull off this ambush, or did the Russians recruit the Iranian's?"

Jordan smiled at her approvingly, "That is an excellent question, but I would prefer to table it until we have finished our current discussion."

"That's fine ma…er, Jordan."

Jordan took up her narrative, "Once the Wasp had recovered the surviving Marines, including a somewhat the worse for wear Osprey crew, the ship came under heavy attack by Iranian missile ships and air units. I don't want anyone to miss the significance of the next statement. At the moment Wasp was attacked, there was not a single other U.S. Navy ship in the Persian Gulf. Wasp had no support whatsoever. In fact, the U.S. Navy ships outside the Persian Gulf had been ordered to not pass through the Strait of Hormuz and enter the Gulf. The captain of the Wasp had only one option and that was to reach the Strait of Hormuz some 550 kilometers away. So he went to flank speed and determined to fight his way out. Wasp is fairly heavily armed and carries a significant amount of ammunition, but it was never intended to operate without escort. By all accounts, the captain, Malcolm Thornwell, fought his ship brilliantly throughout a running battle with most of the Iranian navy for 20 straight hours. Then with only 100 kilometers to go, Wasp ran low on ammunition. A missile made a direct hit on the bridge, killing the captain and executive officer.

The engineering officer, a Commander Alicia Truxton, assumed command but with no ammunition, her options were limited to running as fast as possible and hoping they could stay afloat long enough to reach the strait. I have no doubt that the ship would have been lost had not the captain of an Aegis Cruiser stationed just outside the strait decided that orders or no orders, he was not going to stand by and watch another U.S. warship die alone when help was available. He went to maximum speed, and reached Wasp just as the Iranians were closing for the kill. Apparently, aegis cruisers can really kick ass, because in a thirty minute engagement with U.S.S. Leyte Gulf the Iranians lost about 75% of their navy.

At the mention of Leyte Gulf, Hayley gasped and raised her fist to her mouth in shock. "That was my father's ship!"

"Yes, the captain who did the right thing was Capt. David Farragut Shipton, Hayley's father.

"Why did he never tell me about this?"

"We'll talk about that in a minute, but Hayley, your father was a hero" Hearty agreement was voiced by Rick, Tory and Javier. "He saved the lives of over 1500 sailors and Marines including three of the people in this room."

Javier gave Hayley a hug and whispered, "He saved my life sweetheart, which makes two things I owe him for."

"What's the other thing?"

"You"

Jordan cleared her throat to regain control of the meeting. "In the aftermath of Bandar Deylam, Rick was court-martialed and charged with disobedience to orders, cowardice and desertion. I was appointed as his defense counsel. The trial was disgraceful, it was such an obvious setup that by the end of the first week, I knew that we were going to lose. Col. Bracken testified that two of the destroyed hovercraft were actually hit by friendly fire from the Osprey and that he gave Rick a direct order to return to Wasp. They even had tapes of the supposed conversation that were obvious forgeries. In a fair court, this case would have been over in an hour with an acquittal. As it was it lasted two weeks and Rick was found guilty on all charges. After sentence was pronounced, the prosecutor made a surprise offer of clemency in return for his silence for a period of fifteen years. I convinced Rick that the only way we would ever get to the bottom of the conspiracy was for him to stay out of prison, so Rick accepted the offer. We decided that

the best approach would be for us to go off the radar for a while so I accepted a teaching position at Georgetown and Rick went to the University of South Florida. For the next year Rick and I tried to make some sense of what had happened. We looked at everything from global geopolitical trends to Congressional funding of new weapon systems. Gradually, a coherent picture began to emerge from all the disparate pieces of data. Rick still had some contacts in the Marines and the pentagon, and I had some contacts in the Justice Department which both gave us additional data and confirmed some of our suspicions. Our conclusion was that a lot of bad things happening in the world were not isolated incidents, but rather part of an integrated plan. I Rick go over the global implications of this plan tomorrow. Tonight I want to focus on Bandar Deylam and the evidence of a conspiracy at the highest levels of the U.S. Government to murder almost 2000 American service men and women.

First, the official story was that the decision to mount the raid was based on CIA intelligence data. We now know that there were no intelligence estimates or briefings delivered by CIA to the president or anyone on his staff that made any mention whatsoever of Bandar Deylam during the time frame immediately prior to the raid.

Second, there were no missiles moved into southern Iraq to receive the alleged warheads. As far as anyone in the Iraqi Army or key Iraqi Shiite leaders know, there never were such plans.

Third, the mind-bogglingly stupid order to send U.S.S. Wasp 600 kilometers into the Persian Gulf with no escort. This is something that is just not done. In fact, the task force commander, an Admiral Porter, protested the order to withdraw the escorts so vehemently, that he was relieved of command and forced to retire. Fourth, all of Wasp's normal complement of aircraft were removed from the ship the day before the raid.

Those aircraft which included a squadron of Harriers and a squadron of Seacobra attack helicopters would have been invaluable in the kind of mission that Wasp was given. The presence of the Osprey was apparently unknown to the mission planners, so it was not removed.

Fifth, and perhaps most damning. Tapes of a phone conversation between the president and the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs on the day of the raid where the Chairman reports "The raid was a miserable failure. They got some of them out." the president's response was "those bastards. This was supposed to be foolproof, I want to know who screwed this up."

Sixth, the Russian units were three days late in arriving at Bandar Deylam, and Wasp was ordered to delay the attack by, guess what, 72 hours.

Jordan paused to take another sip of her drink, and Kate raised her hand.

"Yes, Kate."

"I was wondering what happened to the nukes after the raid and if they weren't actually going to Iraq, then where were they going?

The Wasp with the alleged nukes aboard retired to the base at Diego Garcia and a group of experts from the NEST team was flown out to open the crates and examine the contents. When opened, the crates were found to contain…you want to take this Rick?"

"Sure, the crates contained copies of the Koran."

"All that trouble and it was copies of the Koran?" Tory blurted out.

"Yes, someone on the other side has a really sick sense of humor."

Jordan continued, I notice that it's almost nine o'clock, so I'm going to give you some reading material. The binders which Rick is passing out contain documents that support the things which I said tonight and what we're going to talk about tomorrow. I'd like for you to study it enough to be comfortable with the team and its mission. We'll meet tomorrow for lunch at 11:30 and then we'll get back to work promptly at twelve.

"Rick, would it be okay if I took this upstairs to read?" Kate asked, hefting the three inch 3-ring binder.

"Sure, it's a great place to read."

Tori met Kate's gaze, "Mind if I join you?"

"No, the more the merrier" Kate replied, "Maybe you can tell me some stories about Rick."

"Oh yeah." Tori laughed.

Hayley stood up with them, "Count me in, this sounds too good to miss."

Rick groaned theatrically as the three women disappeared up the spiral staircase.

Vienna gave him a wicked grin, "Just be glad she didn't ask me for Rick stories."

He shuddered, "New rule, you and Kate are not allowed to be together unsupervised."

"And just how do you plan on enforcing that rule, Mr. Castle?"

"I don't know, but I'll think of something."

Vienna laughed, "While you're thinking, I'm going to head back; I'll see you in the morning." She walked out grabbing the keys to one of Rick's 4-wheelers.

Jordan stood and stretched, "I believe I'll call it a night as well, this is a rare opportunity to catch up on my sleep."

Javier remained, skimming through the binder and visibly fuming at the thought that his own chain of command had tried to get him killed, and damn near succeeded. Rick sat quietly, nursing his drink and thinking. He wondered how Kate would react to the information in the binder, and what it would mean to their relationship.

"Rick?" Javier interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah."

"Why am I here?"

"Because a team of four has inherent tactical advantages over a team of three."

"What team of four are you talking about and why would it need a tactical advantage?"

"You, me, Kate and Hayley. At some point, we're going to need to run some ops and we'll need every advantage we can get."

"What kind of ops do you have in mind."

"Don't know yet. Aren't you the guy that's always complaining that you never get to have any fun?"

"I guess it proves the old saying, 'Be careful what you wish for'." Any operation planned by Rick was likely to be a lot more than just fun. "Do you think the girls are ready for that?"

"Mostly, there are a few rough edges; I'd like you to work up a training schedule to get them completely up to speed." Rick paused for a second, "On the other hand, I've been in two firefights with those two, and if I had to storm the gates of hell, there's no one I'd rather have backing me up."

"That's good enough for me. I think I'm going to call it a night."

"Okay, see you in the morning."

It was little past 1:00 AM when Kate slipped into the bedroom. She was surprised to see Rick propped up in bed reading. "Hey" she greeted him, "I'll just go change and be right back." When she returned, Rick had turned off the lights and was holding the covers back for her. She slid in gratefully and immediately snuggled against him. She needed the warmth and safety of his arms as never before, and a shudder racked her body.

"What's wrong Kate?" he rolled onto his side facing her.

"I just have all these emotions tumbling around in my mind, fear, anger, shock, despair and probably more that I can't put a name to right now."

"It's a bit overwhelming when it's all dumped on you at once."

"Rick if it was anyone other than you and Jordan, I'm not sure I would believe it even with the evidence. It's mind boggling that our own government would conspire to essentially sell us into slavery."

"I know, but that's why we're here, we know it's happening, so we have to fight to honor our oath."

"Do you really think this small group can stem the tide?"

"Kate my grandpa always said "It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog", this group may be small, but there's a lot of fight in it."

"True, it's ironic that the day you first showed up at the Bureau, I was kind of depressed because my life was so dull and dreary. That sure didn't last long.' She laughed softly, "It's been a heck of a ride Rick Castle and it sounds like that's not going to change anytime soon."

Is that why you were not exactly friendly to me that first day?"

"That, and I had a really bad experience the weekend before, and I was just mad at men in general."

"What happened?"

"Hayley and I went to a club and we were dancing alone. This guy kind of dances over in front of me. He was kind of cute so I started dancing with him. The next thing I know, he has his hands on my hips. I told him no, and tried to push his hands away. But he just clamped tighter and pulled me up against him."

"I can imagine what happened next," Rick chuckled.

"Yeah, the next thing I know is the guy is lying on the floor screaming that his arm is broken and two of his friends jump up and come after me with beer bottles. Well, Hayley takes one of them out and I take the other one out and the bouncers grab us and toss us out the front door."

"Kate that's hilarious, you and Hayley start a bar fight and get tossed out. Who would've thunk it."

"Rick," Kate turned serious, "I saw a name that I recognized on one of the documents in the binder."

"Oh, who?"

"Hector Carnero," she spat out as if the name itself left a foul taste in her mouth.

"The foreign minister of El Salvador? Why did you pick him out?"

"Yes," she said with a sob, "He's the motherless bastard that had me kidnapped." Even in the semidarkness, she could see the sudden hardness in Rick's eyes and she felt a twinge of guilt, knowing she had just condemned a man to death. "Rick…"

"Kate it's okay, I'm not going after him right now, but he just jumped to a tie for first place on my 'alley list'."

"Tied with whom?" she asked.

"Senator Bracken."

"Oh, I can see that. At least I didn't see my father's name in there anywhere."

Rick thought for a second before responding. He hoped she could handle what he was about to tell her, but in the final analysis, she deserved to know. He cleared his throat, which instantly attracted Kate's attention.

####

"Rick?" she asked hesitantly.

He gave her the lopsided grin which allayed her fears somewhat and triggered the fluttery feeling in her stomach that she always got when he looked at her that way. "Kate, the reason you didn't see your father's name is because he's one of the good guys."

Her heart seemed to skip a beat, could it be? But no..no it didn't fit. "Rick he didn't do anything to rescue me, he didn't do anything to punish the people who kidnapped me, and worst of all, he appointed the man responsible as foreign minister in his cabinet."

Rick reached out his hand to gently cup her face and brush away the tear which had appeared with his thumb. "Kate you're being a little hard on your father, he was directly responsible for your rescue."

"What…how."

"When the Legal Attaché was snatched, the U.S. Ambassador came to your father with a request for permission for a rescue mission. Your father knew that if he publicly gave permission for American military units to violate Salvadoran sovereignty, he would end up in front of a firing squad, and Carnero would take over as president. So, he offered a compromise. He would make sure that no Salvadoran military units were in position to interfere with the raid. In return, you had to be rescued along with the legal attaché. When my platoon was assigned the mission, I was informed that it was my personal responsibility to ensure that you were brought back safe and sound. It wasn't an accident that I found you that day; I was specifically looking for you."

Kate's mind was reeling, "Rick, why didn't you tell me this before now?"

"I just found out the background stuff this week. When the rescue happened, I was a lieutenant. Marine Lieutenants are given missions, not always the reasons for the mission. All I knew at the time was that I was supposed to rescue the legal attaché and a ten year old girl. I really was going to tell you sometime this weekend."

"What about the other things, why didn't he prosecute Carnero? Why did he put him in the cabinet?

"I don't know the specific reasons, but I can guess. The agreement that ended the civil war was a very delicate power sharing arrangement between the two largest parties. Your father was the leader of one party and Carnero was the leader of the other. If your father had moved against Carnero, it would have been seen as a politically motivated attempt to decapitate the opposition. At worst it might have restarted the civil war. As to Carnero being in the cabinet, which was mandated by the power sharing agreement, your father didn't really have any choice."

"Thank you for telling me, it'll take me a while to process it all, but I feel a little bit better about things. By the way, I really like Sharina, we had a nice talk."

Rick groaned.

Kate chuckled, "What makes you think we talked about you?"

"You didn't?"

"Of course we did you ninny, do you know she had a crush on you?"

"Yeah, I knew, but we were in the same chain of command, romantic relationships strictly forbidden."

"She still has a major case of hero worship, she said what you did at Bandar Deylam was nothing short of a miracle."

"A miracle she had a large part in." Rick replied.

"Rick, it's getting late, how about a good night kiss?"


	91. Chapter 91

**A/N Thanks to everyone for your interest in this story. I didn't get nerely as many death threats as I expected during the time I was out of the country. Should finish this story soon.**

 **Special thanks to LadyAilith, loyal reader, and now much appreciated editor.**

 **Florida Keys** **,** **Thursday Oct** **ober** **.**

"Kate, Kate, wake up." Rick's insistent voice finally penetrated her sleeping brain and pulled her back into the waking world. She opened her eyes and realized that Rick was no longer in bed. She felt a hand on her shoulder and rolled over to find him standing by her side of the bed and giving her shoulder a periodic shake to punctuate his words.

"What time is it?" she groaned blearily.

"Seven-thirty."

"Seven-thirty? Are you crazy? I wasn't going to get up before 10:00 at the earliest."

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to go fishing," he offered apologetically.

"Fishing?"

"Yes, the water temperature's perfect and the fish should be biting."

"Okay, let me grab a quick shower and get dressed."

"I'll meet you in the kitchen," he said as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

Kate loved fishing. Her father had been an avid outdoorsman and she had learned to fish at a very young age. Only a few weeks before her kidnapping, she had landed a 90-pound Pacific sailfish unassisted on 12-pound test line.

Fifteen minutes later, she walked into the kitchen where Rick handed her a travel mug of steaming coffee and a pastry that had been delivered that morning. They walked along the dock until they reached a white center console fishing boat with a blue sun top. Just because she hadn't been able to go fishing in years didn't mean that she hadn't devoured every major fishing and boating periodical she could get her hands on. Kate recognized it as a Boston Whaler Dauntless 200, a no frills down and dirty fishing machine. Rick helped her into the cockpit, cast off the lines and fired up the Mercury Verado outboard which idled with a throaty rumble. She placed her coffee in the cup holder next to Rick's and climbed onto one of the two seats immediately behind the console. As she had learned to expect from Rick, no-frills did **not** mean shoddy fishing equipment. Everything from the large screen sonar to the rods and reels racked under the gunwales was the best quality available. They ran at high speed for several minutes until the turquoise blue of the water changed to a deep cobalt, signifying a sudden increase in the depth of water under the keel.

Rick pulled two rods from the racks and handed one to Kate. "Here, hold this please?" he requested. He walked to the stern, pulled the drag lever back to free spool and casually flipped the artificial ballyhoo into the boat's wake, letting the line run until he had about 100 feet of line out. He set the drag and dropped the rod into one of the rod holders built in to the stern.

He turned to Kate. "Okay, now I'll do the other rod." She just smiled innocently, and he realized that the other rod was already set. "How…?" he asked, puzzled.

"I just did what you did," she said with a straight face.

"Uh, okay." He returned to the helm and adjusted the speed, so the lures would troll properly.

"What are we fishing for?" Kate asked.

"This time of year, who knows?" he shrugged. "Could be almost anything from amberjack to wahoo." Just about that moment, the reel on the port rod began to sing. Kate was on it almost instantly, yanking the rod from its holder. She flipped the drag lever to the strike position, took a few quick spins on the reel handle to tighten the line, and gave three quick hard lifts on the rod to set the hook. She set the drag to the fighting position and tightened up, so she could feel the fish. She looked back at Rick with a million-candlepower smile that brought a tightness to his throat. There was nothing he wouldn't do to see that smile again. He watched her fight the fish, countering its every move. From the bend in the rod it didn't appear to be a monster and it was only a few minutes before she worked the fish to the boat's stern where Rick gaffed it and laid the king mackerel along the transom for a measurement. Thirty-one inches, just an inch shy of the minimum.

"Are they good to eat?" Kate inquired.

"I don't care for them myself, but some people like them smoked. This one isn't legal anyway." He released the fish carefully and returned to the helm. Kate checked the lure for damage before returning it to the water and resetting the rod.

"Do you want to take the next one?" she queried.

"No, I'd rather watch you." She turned with an eye-roll to watch the two lines, leaning forward like a greyhound at the starting gate. They trolled for another 30 minutes with no action except for a small sailfish that put on two spectacular jumps before tossing the lure back at them and making good its escape.

The reel sang with a particularly high-pitched whine, almost a screech. Rick knew what that meant. He quickly pulled a nylon rod belt from a locker under the pilot seat and surprised Kate as he expertly strapped it around her waist, helping her get the butt of the rod secured in the socket on the rod belt. "You're in for a heck of a fight, sweetheart," he said with a quick peck on the cheek. "Good luck."

She gave him a look that begged to know what she was connected to. She couldn't speak because all her energy was dedicated to holding the rod and staying on her feet.

"I think the smart money at this point would be pointing toward tuna," he informed her. "Probably a big one. If we're going to land this one we're going to have to coordinate your rod handling and my boat handling almost perfectly. So, I'm not going to be here to help you; I must stay at the helm. You understand? She nodded a short choppy nod that spoke of the determination coursing through her slender body. "You only have 12-pound class line so you're not going to be able to overpower it; you're going to have to finesse it and outsmart it. Okay?" She nodded again, and he dashed for the helm.

####

Forty-five minutes later, they were both exhausted. Kate's back, arms, and shoulders burned with an intensity she'd never imagined. A fleeting thought flashed through her mind that the next time her step aerobics instructor exhorted her to "feel the burn," that she would probably throw him out of a window.

Rick was exhausted more mentally than physically as he tried to predict what Kate – or the fish – would do next. He would rather be struck dead on the spot than be the one responsible for losing this fish. Nevertheless, he ran to the side with a bucket and doused Kate with water. She gave him a quick smile of thanks and the smile grew wider when he dug into the cooler and came out with a bottle of Gatorade. "Kate, this fish could possibly be a world record for this line class. If I touch you or the rod, it would disqualify your catch. I don't want to do that unless you say it's okay."

She looked at him with an incredulous glare and forced two words through a dry mouth and chapped lips. "Hell, no!"

"Okay, then I'm going to have to squirt this into your mouth."

She took the entire liter in one almost continuous gulp, before croaking, "More." He retrieved another bottle and she gulped it down almost as fast as the first one, nodding gratefully when finished.

The fish took off on one more run, but it was halting and jerky, with none of the casual power it had displayed earlier. This time, she was able to snub it down after only 50 yards. Kate scented victory and Rick recognized instantly when she went over to the attack. The rod began to move in short pumps moving her unseen antagonist closer by a small fraction of an inch with each pump. The fish seemed to no longer be making sudden runs to one side or the other, so Rick took the risk of leaving the helm to give Kate another dousing with icy water and another bottle of Gatorade. He could tell that she was beyond exhausted and knew that the only thing keeping her going was an indomitable will and the heart of a warrior.

 _God, I love this woman._ It took over 30 minutes for her to bring the fish to within 75 feet of the stern and it rolled once on the surface giving him enough of a look to finally identify the other contestant. His tired mind gaped in disbelief. He would estimate the fish was crowding 400 pounds, but the thing that really surprised him was that it was not a bluefin. A 400-pound bluefin wouldn't even qualify for medium size. This fish was clearly a yellowfin and a 400-pound yellowfin was a monster, a true giant, with world record written all over it.

When the fish rolled, it dove deep and dug in for the climactic battle. The rod slowly bent halfway and stopped the great fish using the last of its energy reserve in a life or death battle with the trembling arms of a young woman scarcely a third its size. Rick quickly cataloged the possible outcomes: the tackle could fail and the fish would escape (actually the most likely outcome); one or the other contestant would concede the contest (not at all likely); a wandering bull shark could decide to have sashimi for lunch (the most undesirable outcome); or one contestant would gradually overpower the other and bend him to her will. In the end, that was the way it played out.

Rick saw the rod tip suddenly jump upward, signifying that Kate had finally managed to turn the fish so that it was facing her rather than away. She began to pump more strongly, and shortly the giant yellowfin was wallowing in the light chop off the stern of Rick's boat. At this point, responsibility for a successful outcome passed to Rick. The Dauntless 200 was a superb platform for locating tuna, for hooking tuna, and for fighting tuna. It was, however, somewhat limited in its provision for boating tuna. It did not, for example, have a transom door through which one might easily slide the fish. There was only one way to get the monster into the boat: simply haul it over the gunwales by main strength. With a third person on board it would have been a relatively simple matter, one person grabbed the head and one the tail and heaved it over. With only Rick, it was a bit more challenging.

Kate almost passed out laughing at his attempts, earning threats of an extended tickling session. The final solution was a case of necessity being the mother of invention. Kate's warning cry made him aware of several shark fins closing rapidly. Damned if some stinking shark was going to get Kate's tuna! He jumped up on the gunwale, and balancing precariously, reached down, grabbing the fish's tail with both hands. He then executed a classic clean and jerk. But with 3/4 of the fish out of the water, his foot on the gunwale started to slip. So he literally threw himself backward, still clutching the fish. The sounds Kate heard were _thump, thump, oof._ The first thump was Rick landing in the scuppers of the boat, the second thump was the 400-pound tuna landing and the oof was since the second projectile landed on top of the first projectile. It was several minutes before Rick dragged himself out from under the fish and tried to stand.

Kate was of no assistance whatsoever during these events as she'd found her phone in her tote bag and was making a video of the goings on for posterity, all the while laughing hysterically. Rick stood, covered in fish blood and slime, giving her a stern look. "A little help here, Beckett."

"Oh, jeez, Rick. I'm sorry, what do you want me to do?"

"Get the wash down hose and rinse me off." When she finished, he gathered her into a wet sloppy hug. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

"Yes," she nodded sheepishly "My father was a fanatical big game fisherman. He started me out young."

"I thought so. There's no way a rank novice would have boated that fish. You did great; I'm proud of you."

"Thanks! That's the toughest fight I've ever had." Rick put the rods away and returned to the helm. He motioned Kate to take the wheel; she opened the throttles and they raced for home.

The others were starting to worry about them; it was now 11:07 am and no one had seen or heard from them all morning. They stood debating about whether to send out a search party when Kenan Bah and one of his sons arrived with a flatbed four-wheeler.

Vienna greeted him. "Kenan, do you know where Rick and Kate are? No one's seen them this morning."

"Yes, ma'am, Ms. Vienna. They got up early and took the Dauntless out fishing. LT just texted me that they're on their way back. Apparently, they did pretty well." His keen eyes narrowed as he looked out to sea. "Here they are now."

Everyone turned to follow his gaze as the Whaler, jauntily flying a tuna pennant, roared up to the dock. Kate was at the helm and she reversed thrust at the last second, just barely kissing the bumpers as the boat came to a complete halt next to a hoist mounted on the dock. Rick jumped out to tie up before reaching in to lift Kate onto the dock. Kenan's son hopped into the boat and secured a strap to the tuna's tail. Kenan activated the hoist and the winch motor groaned in protest as the great fish slowly rose above the level of the dock. It was a jaw-dropping experience for the rest of the team as they took in the scale of the behemoth.

Jordan spoke first. "Rick, did you catch that creature?"

"No." He pointed to Kate with a proud grin. "Kate did."

"No way," Hayley interjected. "That thing would pull her out of the boat!"

Rick laughed. "No, she whipped it fair and square."

Javier took in their disheveled appearance. "Kind of hard to tell who whipped who, don't you think?" he smirked.

"Not when you consider the fact that we're going to eat it for supper and not the other way around," Rick replied.

"Good point."

Rick grunted in acknowledgment and addressed Kenan. "How much does it weigh?"

"Looks like 387 pounds, LT," he replied, consulting the scale that was built into the hoist.

"Gotta be close to a record. I'll look it up when I get a chance. Come on, Kate, let's go get cleaned up." They walked down the dock holding hands while the others trailed behind, taking one last look at Kate's incredible catch.

"Rick, what's going to happen to the fish?" Kate asked as they walked.

"Kenan's sons are going to cut it up. They'll bring some over for supper tonight and whatever's left over, they'll sell to a restaurant down in Key West. That one will probably bring a couple of thousand dollars at least."

"Wow, pretty good deal for a couple of kids."

"Yeah, Kenan and his wife believe that kids should have to work to pay for anything beyond necessities."

####

Jordan Shaw convened the second session of the summit precisely at noon. "Any further questions about last night's discussions or the reading material?" Everyone shook their heads negatively. The material was compelling and presented with clarity. No objective reader could reach any logical conclusion other than that the U.S. Government had conspired to murder its own military personnel. "I would like to start today's discussion by saying that while the president and other high administration officials were complicit in the Bandar Deylam operation, they did not plan it or originate the idea. Indeed, the idea and the mission planning both originated outside the U.S."

Tori interrupted her. "Excuse me, Jordan, but isn't that tantamount to saying that a foreign power has declared war on us and not bothered to inform us before initiating hostilities?"

Jordan nodded in her direction. "Yes, that's exactly what we believe is happening. It's significant that you used the term foreign power instead of nation. At the present time, the forces that are attacking us do **not** have an obvious national affiliation but are more of a coalition of interests that are all working more or less in concert to cripple our country."

Kate raised her hand. "Jordan, who's the man behind the curtain?" Everyone chuckled at her _Wizard of Oz_ allusion.

"I assume that you're asking who is behind all of this?" Jordan asked. Kate nodded. "The short answer is that we only know a little about who he is, but we do know what he is. He's a true believer Neo-Stalinist. His ultimate goal is to reestablish Russian hegemony over all the territory once controlled by the Soviet Union and make Mother Russia the preeminent military and economic power in the world." Rick almost chuckled at the stunned expressions on the faces of Kate, Hayley, Javier, and Tori.

Kate recovered first. "So to answer Hayley's earlier question, the Russians recruited the Iranians for the Bandar Deylam operation."

Jordan nodded once more. "That's what we believe." She paused for a couple of sips of coffee before continuing. "This person, who Judge Raglan referred to as 'The Czar,' is the same person Rick used to refer to as the Monster. He's a master at recruiting, suborning, bribing, blackmailing, and who knows what else, to acquire proxies to do his dirty work. Let me give you some examples. One group that has been represented in all of the ops they've mounted so far is the Islamic Jihadists."

"Jordan," Javier interjected, "why would Jihadists be willing to work with the Russians?"

She again nodded acknowledgment of his question. "For one thing, I don't believe they see it as working with the Russians as much as working with the Czar. It's also a bit of the old 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' idea. Both the Jihadists and the Czar want America destroyed, or at the very least, crippled. So, if they're working toward a common goal and as long as the Czar can deliver the goods in terms of weapons, intel, and funding, they're willing to work together. On the other hand, the Czar gets a seemingly endless supply of fanatical spear carriers who will not balk at carrying out any mission no matter how barbaric or heinous it might be.

"Another group that seems to have signed on with the Czar is the drug cartels. The Czar supplies advanced technology such as drone aircraft to assist their smuggling operations and the cartels supply the poison that eats away at the very structure of our society and corrupts our government and other institutions." She paused and looked at her watch. "I see we have been going at it for a couple of hours; why don't we take a 20-minute break and stretch for a bit?"

Rick and Kate walked out to the end of the dock and stood silently for a few minutes. Rick could tell she was trying to process everything she had learned so far, so he just stood quietly, respecting her personal space. He knew her well enough now to know that once she had wrapped her mind around the information, she would want to talk it over. He would be there for her no matter how long it took.

Eventually she gave a little shake and turned to him with a sigh. "It's down to the Triarii, isn't it?

"Not quite, but it's getting close. I think there's still time to save our country, but we're going to have to move fast and decisively and do it soon to have a reasonable chance of succeeding."

"Rick, it's almost like the whole world is lined up against us! What can just the few of us do?"

"We fight and hope the god of battles smiles upon us." The determination and firmness in his tone heartened her and she stepped into his arms.

"Sorry, Rick." She met his gaze, her striking hazel eyes as hard as diamonds. "You're right of course; we honor our oath and we fight." He held her for a minute, each drawing strength from the other, before they turned and walked back to join the others.

Jordan began speaking as soon as everyone was seated. "Now I'd like to get into some things that will directly bear on the mission of this team. Specifically, the degree to which the Czar has managed to corrupt our government and turn it to his will." To say that she had the undivided attention of everyone in the room would be a gross understatement. "The previous three administrations were essentially in the Monster's pocket from top to bottom. If you remember, the Gorse administration was the bunch of yahoos that was responsible for Bandar Deylam.

"When Rick and I started this effort, we knew that to turn the tide we had to have an administration that was at least not completely on the Czar's payroll, so we waited for the right moment. If you recall the history of the election of 2012, the current president was trailing the incumbent by only two points in the polls with two weeks to go before the election. The president received a sudden influx of contributions, spent the money wisely, and turned a 2-point deficit into an 8 point lead which he carried into the election, winning handily. I would have loved to see the look on the faces of the Czar and his cronies when they realized there was an honest man in the White House."

"I'm just curious," Hayley remarked. "Exactly where did this perfectly timed source of funds come from?"

Jordan just smiled.

Kate, with a sudden flash of understanding, turned to Rick. "You did it, didn't you?" He nodded with a sheepish grin and Kate reminded herself once again that this kind, gentle, and generous man was not a person to be trifled with. "Jordan, is that why you became Attorney General?"

Jordan laughed. "Are you implying that it wasn't my brilliant legal mind and political savvy?"

Kate colored slightly. "Oh no, ma'am, I mean, Jordan…"

"It's okay, Kate. That's the way the game is played. Those contributions allowed us to nominate one cabinet position. We decided on Attorney General. By having control of the Department of Justice, we automatically have control of most of the law enforcement resources of the federal government.

"For the last three years, I've had three covert teams of investigators building a case against those in congress and in the cabinet who are on the Monster's payroll. That investigation should be complete within the next few months, at which time there will be a massive roundup of the traitors."

Javier looked a little puzzled. "Not to be morbid, Jordan, but why haven't they taken you out? Surely they're aware of what a threat you are to their plans."

"Oh, they're aware all right; there've been four assassination attempts that I know of. The last one was just over two weeks ago." The others, except for Rick and Vienna, exchanged glances full of shock and concern.

"Where were you when the attempt was made?" Hayley inquired. "If you don't mind me asking."

"This is going to surprise you," she said with a somber smile. "It was at Camp David."

"Whoa!" Javier interjected. "Isn't Camp David supposed to be one of the most secure places on Earth?"

"It **i** **s** one of the most secure places. It just goes to show how determined they are to carry out their plans. The operation was quite clever, to give the devil his due. They attempted to penetrate the perimeter on the northwest side. However, this was just a diversion to fix the attention of the garrison. During the firefight, they somehow managed to disable the sensors on the southeast side and infiltrate a sniper onto the grounds. The sniper took position in a tree about 100 yards from the bedroom window of the cabin where I was staying, but I got back very late that night and didn't turn the light on before I went to bed, so he didn't get a shot. The sniper apparently spent the night in the tree, so when I left to take my morning run the next morning, he was waiting." She took a sip of her tea to settle her nerves. This attempt had come within a hair of succeeding; who knew how many more she could survive.

"Since you're obviously still with us, Jordan," Hayley questioned, "how did you escape?"

"Rick was with me," she stated matter-of-factly, as if those four words explained everything that needed to be explained. "He and I flew up to brief President Jasper on the formation of this team and to get his approval for a couple of things that we wanted to do. If Rick hadn't been there I would be dead now." She sighed resignedly and said to no one in particular, "One of the reasons I love to come here is that it's the only place I can feel completely safe."

Kate's hand on Rick's tightened involuntarily as she considered the full import of the Attorney General's words. Like most Americans, Kate had been saddened by the slow rot which had eaten away the FBI's reputation, pride, and effectiveness. Every new director, every new Attorney General had seemed more feckless, more imbecilic, more corrupt, and more concerned about their personal power than about the nation they had sworn to protect. Then, the thunderbolt struck, and the election of 2012 brought one Jordan Shaw to the office of Attorney General.

Jordan Shaw was neither feckless, imbecilic, nor corrupt, and she had set about rebuilding the FBI with a fervor that surprised everyone who did not know her well and surprised no one who did. Heads had rolled at a rate unseen since the French Revolution and key positions were back filled with career cops instead of political placeholders. It would be an exaggeration to say that the transformation was complete, but the Bureau was clearly rising from its own ashes to become the warrior-priests of justice that the American mythos required. All those efforts, Kate had observed, applauded, and even participated in to some degree. What she hadn't realized, though, was the price the Attorney General had paid for her diligence. Being marked for death was not an easy burden to carry.

The contemplative silence that followed Jordan's revelation was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Rick rose to answer it and returned with a covered plastic bin containing shaved ice and tuna steaks, and a pie carrier with two key lime pies. The clock on the mantle showed 4:00 pm, so Rick suggested a recess while he and Kate prepared dinner.

"How about this time I do the fish, and you do the sides?" Kate suggested as she joined Rick in the kitchen.

"Okay by me, anything I can do to help?

"Squeeze some limes? About a dozen or so?"

"Okay."

They worked steadily, prepping the vegetables and setting the tuna to marinate in a honey-lime marinade that Kate remembered from an episode of _Emeril Live._ Reaching a convenient stopping point, Rick took her hand. "Let's go pick out some wine for dinner," he suggested, leading her to a door that opened off the kitchen. When he opened the door and turned on the lights, Kate gasped in amazement. The room was about ten feet by twenty feet, lined floor to ceiling with racked wine bottles. She was so entranced that she failed to notice that Rick had softly closed the door behind them. The feel of his arms slipping possessively around her waist alerted her, but not before his lips found a spot on the back of her neck that triggered an explosion of goose bumps and an involuntary shiver of delight.

"Only you could turn a trip to the wine closet into a make out session," she teased.

"It's been eight hours," he complained, "I couldn't hold it any longer."

Twisting around to face him, she awarded him a quick peck on the lips. "Focus, Rick. Dinner, wine, remember?"

"Oh yeah, what's your pleasure, milady?"

Kate considered for a moment. "I'm thinking chardonnay."

"Excellent choice," he approved. "I have just the thing." He walked to the far wall and pulled four bottles off the rack, setting them on the heavy oak table that occupied the middle of the room. "I've been saving these for a special occasion."

Kate picked up one of the bottles and scrutinized the label – _Le Montrachet 2001._ "I'm not familiar with this. It's chardonnay, right?"

Rick chuckled softly. "You might say that. Le Montrachet is generally considered to be the king of the white burgundies. It was the original chardonnay, before chardonnay was cool."

"Good, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Watch Jordan's face when she sees these. The lady knows her wines."

"Rick?" she asked, clearly setting up a more extended question.

"Yes?"

"Can you tell me what happened at Camp David?"

"I suppose; it wasn't really a big deal."

"Wasn't a big deal? Saving the life of the Attorney General isn't a big deal?" She shook her head in disbelief.

"Of course, keeping Jordan from getting shot is a big deal. I meant the protecting itself wasn't a big deal. It's not like there was a pitched battle or anything."

"So, what exactly did you do?"

"I shot the sniper." Rick's "Kate meter" went off the scale as she drew herself up to her full 5-foot 9 inch height, eyes flashing like gold and emerald lasers.

"Mr. Castle, this macho man-of-few-words thing may have worked on your other girlfriends, but not on me. When I ask a question, I want an answer, not a sound bite."

" _Oops_ _!_ _A_ _pissed off_ _Kate is a sad thing, a very_ _bad thing_ _,_ _"_ Rick thought. _"And how the heck can a woman her size be so damn_ _ed_ _intimidating?"_ She was still glaring at him, so he snapped to attention and delivered an after-action report that would have earned him a gold star from his instructors at Quantico.

"While visiting Naval Support Facility Thurmont, commonly known as Camp David, I left the location of the temporary residence known as Aspen Cabin at 10:59 Zulu on September 30, 2017 in the company of the Attorney General of the United States. My intention was to accompany the AG on her morning PT run utilizing the Nature Trail that follows the perimeter of the facility. The activity was scheduled to take approximately 45 minutes. I was armed with a custom modified Colt model 1911 semiautomatic handgun. The AG was unarmed. After leaving the vicinity of Aspen cabin, we proceeded in a generally clockwise direction, following the demarcated path. At approximately 11:31 Zulu, I was informed by a group of _Sciurus carolinensis_ that there was some danger lurking in the vicinity of a large oak.

"Whoa a second, Mr. Castle, just what is a _Sciurus carolinensis_ anyway?"

"Eastern gray squirrel, ma'am."

Kate choked and had to cover her mouth to hide the grin that was trying to form. Rick, for his part, stayed rigidly at attention. Kate finally recovered her composure enough to speak without breaking out in laughter. "So, Mr. Castle, you expect me to believe that a squirrel came over and told you that there was a sniper hiding in a tree? Who are you, Dr. Freaking Doolittle?"

"No, ma'am."

"No, ma'am, what?"

"No, ma'am, I don't expect you to believe that a squirrel told me there was a sniper in the tree and no, ma'am, I'm not Dr. Doolittle who I believe is a fictional character."

"Very good, Mr. Castle. It appears you have at least a tenuous grip on reality. So were you pulling my leg about the squirrel?"

"No, ma'am. In some contexts, pulling your leg would be rather pleasant, but in the current context it's probably not appropriate."

"Mr. Castle…"

"Beg pardon, ma'am," he stated. "Before you interrupted me, I was about to say that I was informed by the **behavior** of a group of squirrels that they perceived some danger in that particular tree."

"Okay, so in addition to all your other talents, you're a squirrel whisperer?" Kate couldn't hold it any longer; she doubled over laughing hysterically.

"No, ma'am. The preferred term is 'squirrel hunter.' May I finish my report?"

"Please do," she somehow got out through whoops of laughter. "I can't wait to see what shows up after the talking squirrels."

"Upon visual inspection of the tree identified by the squirrels," – at which point Kate broke down again – "I detected an anomaly in the foliage pattern that did not appear to be of natural origin. At this point, I terminated the PT run and escorted the AG to a position of relative safety from which to observe said anomaly. Apparently, our unexpected deviation from the planned route unnerved the anomaly to the point where he revealed himself as a camouflaged sniper. The sniper attempted to reposition his weapon to take us under fire, so I engaged the sniper with my sidearm at a range of 50 yards, securing three fatal and three disabling hits out of seven shots fired. No casualties were suffered by friendly forces during the engagement."

Rick was still standing at attention and Kate reached him in four long strides. She grabbed his lapels saying, "See, that wasn't so hard was it?"

"I suppose not."

"You took on a sniper equipped with a scope-sighted rifle at 50 yards with a .45?"

"Yeah."

"You know most people can't hit anything beyond 10 or 15 yards with .45, don't you?"

"I'm not most people."

"Thank God for that," she breathed, pulling herself up to meet his lips in a kiss that left them both panting.

"Do I still have to stand at attention, ma'am?

"Of course, for hours and hours." But instead he grabbed her around the waist and started tickling her ribs. Kate was extremely ticklish and Rick was nearly sending her into convulsions. She managed to get his feet out from under him; they toppled to the floor and rolled under the oak worktable, tickling each other unmercifully. They finally succumbed to exhaustion and climbed out from under the table, grinning, panting, and adjusting their clothing. They gathered up the wine for dinner and returned to the kitchen as stealthily as possible but could not escape the concentrated gaze of the rest of the group.

Javier waved his glass. "Rick, you might want to consider a little more soundproofing around the wine cellar."

Kate buried her face in her hands, but Rick tried to talk his way out. "We were just selecting some wine for dinner," he said innocently, holding up the bottles.

"I don't know what exactly y'all chose, but I know I'm having a glass," Jordan stated with an arch grin.

"Me, too!" Vienna flashed a roguish grin at her husband.

"Me three, uh four," added Tori and Hayley.

Kate was praying fervently that a previously undiscovered geological anomaly would open beneath the kitchen and forever conceal her from the gleeful amusement of her friends. How could this possibly get any worse? Perhaps by noticing the lone figure sitting at the end of the kitchen bar, nursing a cup of Sake.

"What's he doing here?" Kate desperately whispered to Rick.

"Knowing Akahiro, he's looking forward to a holiday of a sort where he gets to enjoy a nice meal with his lovely wife, without either having to cook."

"But Rick, I... he?"

"Kate, it's okay. You don't think Akahiro has ever had a normal meal? I can tell you from personal experience that there's a good reason why Akahiro's the iron chef and Vienna runs Orion."

"Really?"

"Really! Now let's do this."

"Okay."

Kate's honey-lime grilled ahi tuna steaks were a major hit with everyone, including Akahiro who had two helpings and then stole half of Vienna's second helping. Hayley and Javier volunteered to clean up while the rest sipped their wine and made small talk.

Jordan clapped her hands to get their attention and called the evening session to order. "To start off tonight's session, I'm going to give you some statistics that have been developed by the covert investigations I mentioned earlier. I'll start with the cabinet. The Secretaries of State and Defense are thoroughly committed to the Czar's agenda. They have been and are currently doing a very thorough job of destroying our credibility in the international arena and at the same time reducing us to a second-rate military power. I won't go into the military aspect anymore tonight, because Rick is going to cover that in his part of the briefing tomorrow morning. The vice president is also on the Czar's payroll, but doesn't seem to be one of the key players at this point. Of course, that would change dramatically if anything were to happen to President Jasper. The remainder of the cabinet is more or less on retainer, but again don't seem to be playing very active roles at the moment."

"Jordan?"

"Yes, Kate."

"How do you do it? How do you stay sane when you have to work with these bastards every day?"

"Well, it does make for some interesting cabinet meetings. But mostly the thing that keeps me going is the vision of marching these bastards down Pennsylvania Avenue in handcuffs and leg irons."

Hayley spoke up. "I think you're being easy on them."

"That's the PG-rated version."

"What's the R-rated version?" Javier inquired.

"Staking them out naked on a fire ant hill."

"Oooh, I like it," Hayley grinned.

Jordan took charge again. "Getting back to business, in the Congress, we have compelling evidence on 34 senators and 127 house members, including the Speaker. There's some suspicion about several more, but nothing that would stand up in court. I should also point out that the people implicated have been in office for a long time. They're the movers and shakers and they have had a long time to do a lot of damage."

Tori broke in. "Jordan, are you saying that the brain-dead, stupid things that Congress has done, they did on purpose?"

"Yes, it's all part of a coordinated campaign to make the American people lose faith in the government, in the military, and in law enforcement."

"Seems to be working," Rick muttered under his breath.

Jordan had phenomenal hearing. "It **is** working. Public confidence in almost every government entity is at an all-time low, our reputation as a good friend and a bad enemy has been shot to hell, and our ability to decisively influence world events is pretty much gone with the wind."

"Your numbers are pretty good," Vienna commented. In fact, Jordan Shaw's approval rating of 87% was extraordinary.

"Yeah, for what it's worth. Now for the mission. The number one priority is to find the nukes. It wouldn't take very many cities being turned into radioactive dust for the whole country to start coming apart. Number two priority is the nerve gas and virus weapons; number 3 priority is finding the mastermind behind the attacks in Tampa and the Springs." She turned to address Kate and Hayley. "As of today, you two are full-time assigned to this team. You will nominally maintain your positions in the Tampa office, but you will in fact report to Rick as team leader."

She then spoke to Javier. "Rick feels that you should be a full member of the team and I agree. You will be more effective if you have some official status, beyond being security director at Orion." She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a small box which she passed to him. He opened it and gaped in shock. Inside was the six-pointed star of a United States Marshall's badge and an ID already prepared **–** Javier Esposito, Inspector.

"Are you willing to take the oath?" Jordan asked gently.

"Yes, ma'am."

"All right. Then please stand and we'll get it done."

####

Kate walked tiredly out of the bathroom, making a half-hearted attempt to towel her hair dry. Even Rick's steam shower had provided only a marginal antidote to the fatigue that seemed more determined to pull her down with every step. Jordan's revelations tumbled helter-skelter through her mind without pattern or purpose, succeeding only in adding an overlay of dread to every other emotion warring within her.

Rick was propped up in bed, reading again. As she came into view he glanced up with a smile that rapidly faded as he sensed her distress. Abandoning his reading material, he hurried to her and scooped her up. He sat on the edge of the bed, positioning her between his legs, facing away. He gently pulled the towel from her grasp and applied it to her hair.

"That's good" she whispered after a minute or so. He tossed the towel to the foot of the bed and combed the tangles out with his fingers. That completed, he started to knead her neck and shoulders. The muscles were knotted and hard, so he worked steadily, one spot at a time until he could feel her beginning to relax.

"Let's continue this in a more horizontal orientation," he suggested.

"'Kay."

Rick slid backward, clearing space for Kate to stretch out face down. "May I slide the chemise up, so I can have better access?"

"Mm hmm," she sighed, somewhat muffled seeing as her face was buried in her pillow. He pulled the comforter up to her waist and slipped the chemise up as far as he could without removing it entirely. "Take it off," came her indistinct command. "I don't want anything to get in your way." The chemise joined the towel at the foot of the bed and began his exploration by trailing his fingertips in gentle circles across her back, top to bottom and side to side, cataloging the grimaces and the breathy little moans that warranted more attention. She raised her head slightly to see his face. "Rick?"

"Yes."

"What were you reading when I came in? Is it something to do with the mission?"

"No, nothing to do with the mission. It's actually a writer's draft of Stephen's new book; he asked me to look it over."

"You know Stephen King?"

Rick chuckled. "Wrong genre, sweetheart. Think Stephen Hawking instead."

"Oh. You know Stephen Hawking?" she squeaked.

"Yeah, physics is a small fraternity when all is said and done."

"You can go back to the back-rubbing thing now."

"Yes, ma'am."

A few minutes later, Kate was sleeping peacefully, her breathing slow and steady, interrupted every fifth or sixth breath by a genteel little snort that Rick found adorable. But now he faced a dilemma. He had a half-naked woman in his bed and he didn't want to wake her. If he slipped under the covers, he knew she would end up draped over him and either he would have a stroke, or she would wake up in that position and shoot him. Thinking hard, he finally came up with a plan that had at least a small chance of keeping his mental and physical health reasonably intact. He reached over and pulled the comforter up to her shoulders. Then he slipped out of the bed opposite Kate and retrieved a blanket from the linen closet. Returning to the bed, he lay down on top of the comforter and spread the blanket over himself. He finally fell asleep, desperately missing the feel of her next to him.

Kate woke with a distinct feeling of unease. Her face was buried in a pillow – a real pillow, not the broad chest that she had become accustomed to – and the customary warmth was noticeably diminished. She lifted her head slightly and saw that Rick was beside her. Why was he so far away? She tried to scoot over to a cuddling position but was brought up short by the comforter. What the…? He wasn't under the covers! She sat up abruptly and suddenly realizing she was naked from the waist up, snatched up the comforter to cover herself. Memory returned in a rush. She must have fallen asleep while Rick was giving her a back rub and he hadn't wanted to wake her, so he had created a physical barrier to protect her modesty. Hayley was right as usual, the depth of his love for her was unimaginable.

 **Atlantic Ocean** **,** **200 nautical miles** **East of Gunslinger Key** **,** **Friday October 14**

Captain Mikhail Zaytsev watched with what appeared to be professionally detached interest as his crew began the tedious process of transforming the Alligator class landing ship _Konstantin Klementi_ into a reasonable facsimile of the NOVOSHIP Freight lines long-haul freighter _Astrakhan._ The subterfuge was entirely necessary, seeing that the presence of a Russian landing ship stuffed with Spetsnaz commandos in U.S. Territorial waters would likely trigger a rather violent reaction, should it be discovered. The real _Astrakhan,_ which was a perfectly legitimate civilian freighter, had docked at the Port of Miami at least once per month for the past three years. _Astrakhan's_ presence wouldn't raise an eyebrow.

The captain watched with approval as his men rigged scaffolding and began peeling away plastic film that gradually changed the drab gray color of the warship into the gleaming white and light blue of the civilian vessel. After the mission was completed, another layer would be peeled off, reverting to their true identity. Weapon mounts were enclosed in lightweight fiberglass structures designed to look like deck cargo to the casual observer, and a rather large version of the house flag, light blue with a diagonal white stripe, was hoisted to the masthead where it flapped languidly in the 10 knot breeze generated by the vessels forward motion.

The sun was just a thin orange streak on the eastern horizon when the first officer announced that the conversion was complete. Captain Zaytsev acknowledged the report with a nod and turned to his helmsman. "Set your course 270."

"Seems like a lot of trouble, doesn't it?"

The captain turned to look at the speaker, a trim, shortish man in mottled gray combat fatigues who had just entered the bridge. As usual, he hadn't asked permission, just strolled in like he owned the ship.

"What do you mean, Colonel?"

"Sending two Spetsnaz companies to terminate a dozen unsuspecting civilians. Seems like killing ants with a sledgehammer."

"You were at the same briefing that I was, Colonel. The Czar said not to underestimate them."

"Just being realistic, Captain. Do I have your permission to bring my men on deck for a little exercise?"

"Certainly, Colonel. But only until full daylight." The Spetsnaz officer turned and left the bridge without a word. Captain Zaytsev choked down his annoyance at the sheer arrogance of his passenger. While technically a navy captain and an army colonel were equivalent ranks, he had no illusions who would win a pissing contest between them. Colonel Alexi Tyurin was Spetsnaz, twice Hero of the Soviet Union under the old regime for actions in Afghanistan, and the Czar's go-to for nails that needed a special ops hammer. Rumor had it that Tyurin had personally assassinated three heads of state that tried to withdraw from the SCO, and his battalion had been involved in every significant military operation since the fall of the Soviet Union. Not that he would ever admit it, but the captain felt a twinge of pity for the inhabitants of the small island that was the target for tonight.

 **Gunslinger Key, Friday October 14**

"There is a significant groundswell of discussion about possibly impeaching President Jasper," Jordan stated flatly.

Tori gasped. "Whatever for?"

"Failure to prevent the terrorist attacks in Tampa, especially the nukes."

"Seriously?" Kate growled. "It would never work. His party controls Congress."

"The impetus is coming from **within** his party, especially Governor Rodgers." Jordan spoke as if the very words were nauseating. "Governor Rodgers is the Czar's tool and he's already campaigning behind the scenes for the nomination in 2020."

Kate's brow wrinkled. "Why go to all the trouble of an impeachment? He could just wait for the election and be president the normal way."

Jordan turned to Rick. "Want to take this one?"

"Sure," Rick nodded. "My best guess is that the Czar has something he needs to do between now and the election and having Governor Rodgers in the White House will facilitate the plan."

Kate bolted upright. "I have an idea." Jordan motioned for her to continue. "The missing nukes. He knows we're looking for them and maybe he has _a use them or lose them_ mentality."

Rick nodded again. "Makes sense."

"Jordan, is the impeachment movement related to the debate in Tampa?"

"I believe so, Vienna. Governor Rodgers challenged the President to a public debate on defense policy, a patently obvious attempt to embarrass the President and make Governor Rodgers look like a white knight ready ride in and save the country."

"Why would the President even consider such an idiotic plan?" Hayley scoffed.

Jordan awarded her a somber grin. "Just between us girls, the President can be a little insecure."

"Hey, I'm right here," Rick protested.

Jordan rolled her eyes. "The president would do almost anything to look like a tough guy. So you see, anything we can do to find the nukes or nail the mastermind behind the terrorist attacks would be a huge boost for him."

"Why wouldn't they cancel the debate," Javier inquired. "I mean considering the two recent terrorist incidents and all."

Jordan responded with a grimace of distaste. "Governor Rodgers has already gone on record saying he will not be intimidated by a bunch of terrorists, so if the President were to back out now, it would make him look weak. In its infinite wisdom, the Secret Service has decided that the fact that the terrorists have had two goes at Tampa and got their asses kicked both times implies they're not likely to try for a three-peat."

"I heard it was going to be more like the state fair than a presidential debate on national defense policy," Hayley smirked.

Jordan gave a disgusted headshake. "You are a master of understatement, Agent Shipton. It's a disaster. They're even having a Civil War battle reenactment. Guess whose idea it was."

"Why would they do that?" Kate wondered.

"According to the governor, it's veteran appreciation thing," Jordan said with disgust. "I already appreciate veterans. What I don't appreciate is a bottom feeder like the governor using something so important to make a cheap political score." Rick, Tori and Javier nodded in agreement.

Jordan checked her watch. "It's 11:30; what do you say we take a break and meet back at noon for lunch. Rick has some additional information to share about Orion after lunch, and then," she smiled wickedly, "I believe some of our members have plans for a hot night on the town in Key West."

Kate returned from freshening up and looked around, but there was no sign of Rick. She finally found him at the end of the dock, standing with his hands clasped behind his back and a beyond the horizon look in his eyes. "A dollar for your thoughts."

He looked up and a smile briefly flickered across his face. "You, actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I was thinking about how much you've changed my life in a couple of weeks. Before you came along, my only goal in life was to take vengeance on the Czar for all he's taken from me. I never really thought about what came after. Now I see that it's not enough to just tear down; I must build something, build a future for us, a future for humanity."

She smacked him lightly on the chest. "There's no I in We."

"What?"

"You said ' **I** have to build something for the future.' I think you meant ' **We** have to build something for the future.'"

"Oh." He gave her a sheepish grin. "Of course. Just force of habit."

She reached up to give him a quick peck on the lips. "I'll let it slide this time, but don't let it happen again."

"No, ma'am. I think it's time for lunch, let's head back."

Lunch was a quietly solemn affair. The three newest team members were clearly struggling to come to grips with the radical revisions to their understanding of how the world worked. Actually _revision_ was wildly understated. _Upheaval_ was closer to the mark, but still fell a bit short. _Seismic shift_ was closer still. Jordan tried to lighten the mood by addressing Tori. "It looks like it'll just be the two of us tonight after the kids leave for their big date. You want to watch a movie and do each other's nails?" Tori sputtered into her tea and the rest of the table snickered.

Rick cautiously cleared his throat, attracting everyone's attention. "Vienna and I, um…er…took the liberty of arranging dates for the two of you if you'd care to join the festivities."

"Richard Castle! This has got to be the craziest stunt you've ever pulled! What makes you think I'd go along with this scheme of yours?" Jordan demanded hotly.

"Just trying to be a good host."

"And you think being a good host involves setting me up with a blind date? I'll have you know I can get my own dates."

Rick met her gaze steadily across the table. "Jordan, how long has it been since you went on a date? I don't mean state dinners or embassy receptions where your escort is some State Department hack whose name they picked out of a hat. I mean a real dressed to the nines, let your hair down and cut loose with a real guy, kind of date."

She dropped her gaze. "It's been a long time, Rick, a really long time," she answered with a hint of sadness.

"Jordan, you trust me, don't you?

"You know I do."

"Then trust me on this one."

"All right, Rick. I'll give it a shot, but he'd better be good."

"You have no idea," he grinned. He turned to Tori, who had managed to get her voice back.

"I'm not staying here by myself, Rick. So if Jordan is up for it, I am too."

"There are a couple of obstacles though," Jordan observed meeting Rick's gaze again. "What about security? My security detail isn't here, and I can imagine what the President would say if he found out that I was carousing in Key West with no security at all."

Rick chuckled. "Jordan, I assure you that your date is entirely capable of keeping you safe. You'll be as safe as if I were with you."

"Jeez, Rick. Did you get me a date with Batman or something?"

"Nah, he's in a long term committed relationship with Catwoman, so he wasn't available. You mentioned a couple of obstacles. What else besides the security thing?"

Jordan laughed. "The most important thing of all – I don't have a thing to wear! All I brought was casual stuff."

"Me, too," Tori added.

Rick just smiled his goofy smile that Kate loved so much, "My lovely business partner over there has that situation well in hand." He nodded toward Vienna who was sporting her own Cheshire cat grin. She stood, retrieved a stack of three dress boxes and a large shopping bag from the coat closet, and deposited them in front of Jordan. A second trip placed a similar collection in front of Tori.

"You each have a choice of three dresses and I got the shoes and other accessories to go with them," Vienna announced smugly.

"How did you get our sizes?" Tori asked with a puzzled expression.

"Rick's not the only one who knows people." If anything, Vienna's grin became even more Cheshire cat-like. "Jordan's was easy. Since she's been through the security system at Orion, there's a 3-D laser scan of her on file. I just downloaded it to my favorite boutique and they took it from there." She shifted her attention to Tori. "You were a bit more of a challenge. Jordan suggested that maybe you had new uniforms made when you got promoted, so we checked all the tailors that do work for the military and found the one you used. Pretty straightforward after that."

Hayley spoke up. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'd really like to see what Vienna picked out."

"I second the motion," Kate added.

Jordan stood and declared, "Excuse us gentlemen, we have some girl stuff to do." The women disappeared down the hall to Jordan's room, leaving Rick and Javier alone at the table. They rose and cleared the table. Rick loaded the dishwasher and made himself and Javier a cup of coffee.

"Okay, Rick," Javier asked as they wandered out onto the deck, "who're the mystery dates you setup for Jordan and Tori?"

"Vienna set up the date for Tori since I didn't know she was coming. It wouldn't be a mystery if I told you, now would it?"

"Aw, Rick, I won't tell anyone."

"You forget, Hayley's psychic; she'd read your mind. I'll give you a hint – 1992 and 1993 NCAA football national championship game MVP both years." Javier didn't have the encyclopedic knowledge of college football that Vienna had, but he was still a fan and it didn't take long for him to make the connection.

"Bobby Pender!"

Rick nodded.

"Isn't he the…?"

"Governor of Louisiana? Yes, he is," Rick agreed with a grin.

"How'd you manage to set one of the girls up with the Governor of Louisiana?"

Rick grinned a little wider. "Campaign contributions."

"So, which one gets the governor?"

"Tori."

"I'm almost afraid to ask who you got for Jordan. Give me a hint."

"Crocodile Dundee."

"You set her up with Paul Hogan?"

Rick laughed. "No, try again"

Javier thought for a moment. "Ahhh, the guy's Australian, right?"

Rick nodded.

"Someone I would know?"

Rick nodded.

"And someone she would be safe with?"

Rick nodded.

"Ry McKenna?"

"Bingo."

"Dang, I haven't seen him since Bosnia. What's he doing these days?"

"He's the Military Attaché at the Australian Embassy in Washington."

"Does he know who his date is going to be?" Javier asked.

"No," Rick grinned evilly. "It's a blind date for him, too."

"I can't wait to see his face when he finds out."

When the women had finished admiring the dresses Vienna had picked out and debating which one they should wear, Jordan sent Kate to find Rick and Javier and bring them back to the sitting area for the wrap up session. "Rick, you have the floor."

"Listen up, everyone. I'd like to talk to you all about Orion. At the moment, the degree of knowledge among the team ranges from total to non-existent, and I think it's important to have everyone at least with a basic understanding of the Institute and its purpose. The Institute conducts original research in life sciences, advanced materials, nanotechnology, and cybernetics. The output from the research side feeds into engineering and development where we convert them into useful innovations. Those innovations, we either license to other companies to use in their own products, or we keep them and use them ourselves.

"There are some things that we manufacture and sell. At the present time, the only things that fall in the latter category are the nanoject antidotes for chemical and biological agents and some special materials for the aerospace industry. Our R&D pipeline is stuffed to bursting and we have a double handful of new products that will be released to the market within the next year or so.

"Now, you might be curious as to what exactly all that chest thumping has to do with the larger topic of the Czar and his conspiracy. First, Orion is a cash engine. We have a war chest that will allow us to do almost anything we need to do. Second, we have developed weapons systems that are considerably more advanced than anything currently deployed or likely to be deployed in the near future. To defeat the Czar, we need people, weapons and money. Those things we now have to one degree or another, so I believe it is time to draw the sword."

"Any questions for Rick?" Jordan asked.


	92. Chapter 92

"Rick, can you share some of these advanced weapons systems with us?" Tori requested.

"Okay, give me a minute, please." He hurried out of the room and returned lugging a rugged container that caused Kate and Hayley to exchange knowing glances. _Bet we know what that is_. Rick set the case on the floor and lifted the 18-inch diameter disc-shaped object onto the coffee table.

Tori slid forward in her seat to get a closer look. "It looks like a scale model of the Millennium Falcon," she observed with a quizzical glance at Rick. "What does it do?"

"Let's step out on the deck and I'll show you." He handed the controller to Kate and hefted the device to a comfortable carrying position before leading the group onto the back deck. He placed his burden down carefully on the deck's surface and stepped back a couple of paces. Kate was standing next to him with the controller; he turned to her and asked, "Do you want to take it up?" Her brilliant grin was answer enough. Rick knew she'd seen him operate the device twice, which was twice as many times as it usually took her to figure something out. "Okay, power her up and wait until I give Tori a little orientation before you start the demonstration."

She snapped off a jaunty salute. "Aye, aye, Keptin."

" _Star Trek fan, damn I love this woman_." Facing Tori, he began, "This is a Valkyrie. It was developed as a super stealthy, high endurance, autonomous reconnaissance drone. It has several significant advantages over any other known or rumored drone technology. First, it's quiet, or to be perfectly accurate it makes no sound whatsoever," he paused for a moment, a chuckle escaping despite his best efforts, "unless you want it to."

Tori, puzzled, looked across the deck seeing Vienna snickering as well. "Care to share with the class, Rick?"

"Sure. About four months ago, we decided that Valkyrie needed a full-on operational test, so we looked for a mission that the existing drones were not able to fulfill. We found the perfect target in a major Al Qaeda/Taliban headquarters cave complex in northern Waziristan. The Predator fleet had been going after this base for over a year with limited success. The bad guys seemed to always know when the drones were in the area and they would just pull back into the caves and use the civilians in the village outside as human shields.

"Then to make matters worse, about eight months ago, we started losing Predators to what appeared to be a very sophisticated air defense system. In just a couple of months the CIA lost 11 drones and the decision was made to quit trying until they could come up with a plan to deal with it." He paused for dramatic effect, noticing that he had the rapt attention of everyone on the deck including Vienna and Javier who already knew the story. "We decided to send a Valkyrie, a much larger version than this one by the way, to find out what was going on. One of our interns who was helping prep the Valkyrie for the mission had a brainstorm. She suggested that we give the Valkyrie the ability to make sounds if we wanted to. So, we basically gave it an iPod loaded with a bunch of sound files we thought might be useful and sent it off to Pakistan.

"Once we had the Valkyrie parked about a thousand feet over the complex, it didn't take long to figure out what was going on. There was indeed an air defense system, and clearly one that had not been built in Pakistan.

"If you don't already know, predators use a small ducted fan engine for propulsion, so they have a distinctive sound. We were monitoring the complex, when a convoy rolls up to the village and about twenty of the people that were on the CIA's hit list pile out. The tech that who was on duty, called me, and Vienna and I rushed over. When we got to the control room, the tech was lying on the floor laughing hysterically. She had somehow come up with the idea of playing the engine sounds of a Predator using the sound system we installed on the Valkyrie. Well, the result was total pandemonium. It was almost like watching a Keystone Kops movie, with 20 guys trying to get into the cave through an opening that was only big enough for one."

Tori waited for the laughter to die down before asking, "How is it that they didn't see it?"

Rick turned and bowed toward Kate. "Take it away, maestro."

Kate manipulated the controls and the Valkyrie rose slowly, coming to a stop about a hundred feet overhead. She touched the screen, activating the stealth system and the Valkyrie disappeared, treating Tori to her second jaw-dropping experience for the day. "Holy crap, where did it go?"

Kate touched the controller and the Valkyrie reappeared. "Take her a couple of miles out to sea and back," Rick suggested. "And take her up to Mach 2." _**BOOM! BOOM!**_ The double booms of the drone accelerating and decelerating back to rest seemed to occur almost simultaneously. Tori was not only a pilot, she was also an engineer. The implications of what she had just seen whirled through her mind as she tried to do the math in her head. "That little puppy is fast!"

"Yeah," he agreed. "Quiet, fast, and absolutely invisible to any known sensor utilizing any part of the electromagnetic spectrum."

"And why exactly are these things not in the Coast Guard's inventory right now?" Tori's glare was not quite as intimidating as Kate's but still impressive. "Rick, if we had one of these things on every cutter, we'd cripple the drug trade in six months. There's no telling how many lives it would save."

Rick stood thoughtfully for a few seconds. "I suggest we take this discussion back inside. I could use another cup of coffee." Kate brought the Valkyrie to a gentle landing and Rick carried it back into the house as the others refreshed their drinks and found their normal seats.

"Tori, there are several minor reasons and one major reason why the Valkyries aren't in general deployment. At present there are only three of the larger ones and six of the small ones available. They're also very complex to manufacture. In fact, right now, we can only do about two of the large ones or four of the small ones per year." He paused for a moment. "However, the most important reason is that the technology behind it absolutely **cannot** fall into the wrong hands."

"I understand." Tori was only partially mollified; she wanted these things badly. "It's just that drug interdiction is becoming more dangerous and difficult every day and the Valkyrie could be a game changer."

"I know, Tori, but there's a lot more at stake here than stopping a few drug runs. I'll make you a deal, though. If you have a specific high-impact case where you think Valkyrie might be critical, I'll loan you one as long as one of my techs goes along to babysit."

Her countenance brightened considerably. "I can live with that. Thank you, Rick."

"No problem," he said with a smile and then turned back to the group at large. "Now, to continue, everyone except Tori has been to the Orion facility over by the University, which we call Site 11, and I'd like her to come for a tour as soon as possible after we get back. That site is only the tip of the iceberg. In fact, only a small percentage of Orion's employees work there."

"Rick, how many people actually work at…uh…Site 11?" Kate asked.

"About 600."

"Wow." Kate's brow furrowed in surprise. "From the size of the buildings, I would have expected it to be at least 3,000."

"Yes, it's part of our security plan. Anyone who stages a ground assault against the site is going to find themselves attacking a lot of empty space."

Tori spoke up, "Do you actually expect an attack?" No one missed the glance that flashed between Rick, Vienna, and Javier before Rick answered.

"Yes, it's inevitable. You don't have to kick a hornet's nest very often before the hornets come after you, and we've been kicking the nest thoroughly for the last couple of weeks.

"Every lab or machine shop, or fabrication bay at Site 11 is duplicated at four or more other sites. Even then, most of our employees work either in University or corporate facilities that have no obvious connection to Orion. It's the best we can do to safeguard both the people and the work being done."

"Any additional questions for Rick?" Jordan asked.

####

Rick looked up from the bed where he was reading when Kate walked out of the bathroom, still damp from the shower and wearing the green silk bath robe that was rapidly becoming one of his all-time favorite articles of clothing. It flowed over her curves like emerald moonlight and emphasized without revealing what his imagination supplied so fervently. She gave him a half-hearted glare for staring at her, but they both knew that he wasn't going to stop. Just like they both knew it didn't bother her nearly as much as it once had. "Care to join me?" he asked with a grin, as he patted the bed next to him. "You look like you might be catching a chill and I could help warm you up."

She looked down and blushed slightly. "You and I both know that if I get anywhere near that bed, you'll make me late, and I'll have to rush getting ready which tends to make me crabby."

"Okay, okay." He threw up his hands in mock surrender. "It was just an innocent suggestion."

She grinned at him over her shoulder as she disappeared into the walk-in closet. "I bet you haven't made an innocent suggestion to a woman since you figured out that girls don't have cooties."

"They don't?" He heard her snort of laughter from the closet as she stepped out with a garment bag over one arm and her overnight/makeup case in her other hand. She was clearly heading for the door, which prompted him to ask, "You're not getting dressed here?"

"Of course not, you ninny! We're all meeting in Jordan's room to help each other get ready." She blew him a kiss on her way out the door.

###

Brigadier General Ryton McKenna felt a flutter of nervous anticipation as he boarded the private jet at Memphis International Airport. It wasn't as if he were being kidnapped after all. He'd come willingly enough and the aircraft was owned by a person he considered a friend. Nevertheless, anticipation was currently taking a back seat to nervousness and he found it mildly amusing. It had been a long time since Ryton McKenna had felt nervousness. He normally planned his activities with the chilly precision of a cryogenically cooled supercomputer, and executed those plans without the tiniest flicker of fear, or nanosecond of hesitation. But not today. Today he paused at the open doorway of the sleek conveyance and wondered if it was too late to turn back, to return to the mind-numbingly boring but safe conference that had claimed his time for the past week before his friend's phone call offered him an avenue of escape.

Now, as he made his way to the seat indicated by the immaculately attired flight attendant, his thoughts were starting to run away with him and he felt a microscopically thin sheen of sweat build between the surface of his skin and the buttery soft leather that upholstered the seat. He accepted a well-chilled bottle of Pellegrino from the attendant. At least now he could convince himself that the dampness in his palms was condensation and not fear. Maybe this whole blind date thing wasn't such a promising idea after all.

He was admiring the understated elegance of the aircraft's interior when the remainder of the flight crew came aboard. The pilot and copilot sketched him a snappy salute as they disappeared into the cockpit. The attendant came from the rear of the cabin to check his seat belt. "The captain asked me to tell you that our flight time to Baton Rouge is 42 minutes."

"Baton Rouge! I thought we were going to Key West."

"We are, sir," the attendant answered with an enigmatic smile. "We just have another passenger to pick up."

" _Aha,"_ the general thought, _"he's going to give us a couple of hours to get acquainted before we get to Key West. Always was a clever bloke._ "

The gleaming blue and gold Gulfstream G550 floated in to an almost perfect landing at Baton Rouge Metro Airport and taxied up to the American Eagle Gate - B2. General McKenna was a bit surprised, as private business jets didn't normally utilize commercial jetways. Passengers boarded from a paved pad or other ground level surface using steps instead. It seemed in this case, an exception was being made, and he wondered briefly who the woman was that merited such attention.

The jetway reached out like some alien parasite and coupled with the aircraft, the attendant hustling by to open the main hatch. Because of the jetway he knew he would not get an advanced look at the woman, so he schooled his features to a carefully neutral expression. The first person through the hatch was a rather large black man with an alert stare and pigtail wire creeping from under the collar of his black suit to connect to an almost invisible microphone. Clearly a bodyguard, but then the man turned, giving the general a glimpse of a _mini bloody Uzi!_ That got his attention! His mind went into overdrive as he tried to think of the women in the world who would be available for a blind date with **him** , and simultaneously merit the level of security normally reserved for royalty and heads of state. His brain finished its calculations, and the list it generated contained precisely zero names. _What the bloody hell was going on?_

The second person to enter the aircraft was another black man, this one distinguished-looking rather than intimidating, wearing gray flannel slacks and a navy blazer. Not nearly as physically imposing as the first man, yet he easily matched the general's six foot, two inch height with the beefy kind of muscular build that one attributed to players of American football, or rugby at a high level. This individual seated himself across from the general and gave him a noncommittal nod of acknowledgment.

The third person to enter was at least a woman, and not at all unattractive, come to that, but clearly not the one he was looking for. She carried a small briefcase which she transferred to the seated man after he finished wrestling with his seat belt. "Have a great weekend, sir," she stated as she left the plane.

"Thank you, Kathleen," he acknowledged as the first man strolled to the rear of the cabin and took the seat opposite the flight attendant. The pilot wasted no time in pulling away from the gate and joining the relatively meager line of aircraft holding for takeoff. Within fifteen minutes of leaving the gate, they had turned southeast and completed their climb out to 25,000 feet. The general was not particularly comfortable having a loaded automatic weapon in his blind spot. But so far, he hadn't completely decided whether he should do something about it or if he should, whether he could. Although to be honest, the could question was mostly rhetorical. The distinguished-looking man interrupted his ruminations by reaching across the open space and offering his hand. "Robert Pender. How do you do, sir?"

"Ryton McKenna, and quite well thank you."

"Mr. McKenna, could I ask you a very strange question?"

The general was slightly taken aback, but nevertheless nodded for the other man to continue.

"Er…um…are you here because a lunatic hillbilly from North Carolina offered to set you up on a blind date?

The general could not contain the explosive laugh that escaped. "Yeah, you too?"

"Yep." He thought for a few minutes before turning back to his companion. "Mr. McKenna, how do you know our mutual friend?

"Since we seem to be stuck in this madcap adventure together, call me Ry."

"Bobby," the other man offered.

"Right, Bobby, I met Rick in Bosnia. Our units worked together on occasion. How about you?"

"You know about Ludovic, right?" Ry nodded. "Well, I was the navy corpsman attached to Rick's company. I was the first American medic to reach him. I got there about 20 minutes after the Spanish returned." Bobby bowed his head. "For a long while I really thought we were going to lose him. Then when he got out of the hospital, he came to see me and told me he thought I ought to go to medical school.

"So you're a doctor now?

"I still have my license, but I haven't practiced in about 6 years. I kind of got into politics after my wife died and stuck with it."

"You in office now? Ry questioned.

"Yep," Bobby grinned. "I'm the Governor of Louisiana."

"Oh, that explains the muscle."

"What do you do, Ry?"

"I'm the Military Attaché at the Australian Embassy in Washington. Probably be there for another four years or so and then go back to my day job."

"Which is?" the governor asked with friendly curiosity.

"Commanding the Special Air Service Regiment," Ry responded with obvious relish. "How'd Rick get you to go along with this blind date thing, Bobby?"

The governor grinned. "Campaign contributions."

"Oh?"

"That and the fact that no one ever accused Rick of not having an eye for the ladies. So, I figure if he is willing to go to all this trouble, the woman must be someone special."

"I think you're right," Ry agreed. The two men made friendly small talk for the next two hours until the jet touched down at Key West International. The jet taxied to a remote pad and the men stepped out to find a helicopter waiting.

A middle-aged woman in a perfectly pressed flight suit met them as they deplaned, "Governor Pender? General McKenna?"

"That's us," they answered simultaneously.

"I'm Josie Hutchins. I'll be flying you out to Gunslinger Key to pick up your dates for tonight."

They quickly retrieved their bags and boarded the helicopter. The governor's bodyguard left in a rental car to check in to a motel. He would accompany the governor anytime he was off the island, but Rick was adamant that if he couldn't ensure the safety of his guests, then he would **not** invite them.

The helicopter touched down gently, and the two men stole a surreptitious glance at the welcoming committee. Four women and two men. They turned to each other and grinned. It appeared that Rick Castle indeed had an eye for the ladies.

Rick's phone signaled an incoming text from Josie: ETA 15 minutes. So he walked over to the hallway leading to the guest bedrooms and called out, "15 minutes to showtime, ladies."

"Here we are," they announced as they appeared at the opening into the sitting area. Javier rose to his feet in response and his breath caught at the sight of Hayley in a Yves St. Laurent, snow leopard print, mini dress.

Rick grinned appreciatively. Yep, Javier was toast. Next, he turned his attention to Jordan. It shouldn't have surprised him that a woman who could rock a naval officer's uniform would seriously rock a Hervé Léger sequined bandage dress. Yep, Ry was going to owe him big time.

Next to enter was Tori. Rick whistled softly to himself. She sure cleaned up nice. Since her date was a prominent politician, Vienna had gone for something elegant and understated but still supremely feminine, an Oscar De La Renta crocheted and beaded midi dress in a deep burgundy.

Then he saw Kate and the other women in the room faded into the background. It wasn't the dress, the amazing teal, layered ruffle, spaghetti strap dress that she had spent nearly half a month's salary on that captured his gaze and held it with a grip of steel. No, it wasn't the dress that fit as if every molecule of silk had been individually matched to its proper location on her smooth skin. It was her eyes, damn it. They seemed larger and smoky and sultry and full of mystery and danger. Whatever she had done was subtle to be sure, but if he didn't break away soon, they would have to hose him down to prevent spontaneous combustion. He realized Kate was regarding him with a bemused expression and he closed the distance, leaning in to whisper in her ear, "You look amazing. I've never seen anything so beautiful in my entire life."

She blushed prettily and smiled up at him. "Do you like the dress? I got it just for you."

"Dress? What dress?" His brain was still in overload shutdown mode.

"The one I'm wearing, silly. Rick, are you all right?"

"Oh, right." He pulled back for a second and let his gaze travel down her body and back, "It's lovely."

"Rick, are you seriously telling me that you didn't notice the dress until now?"

"Uh…I guess not. My mind was too busy being blown away by the woman wearing it."

Kate stood stunned for a second. Past dates had rhapsodized about her hotness, had looked at her with what she'd learned to identify as lust, but, no one had ever looked at her the way Rick was looking at her now. Not lust – well maybe a little lust – but something like the way an art lover might look at a newly discovered da Vinci: wonder, amazement, sheer unadulterated joy, and perhaps even a little worship thrown in for good measure. "You keep looking at me like that, and we won't make it out of the house tonight," she whispered, and then giggled at the way his eyes lit up at the suggestion. "Sorry, Mr. Castle, you promised me dinner and dancing, remember?"

"Right." He gave his head a small shake as if to clear his mind and offered her an arm to help her down the steps to the waiting four wheelers.

####

"Well Governor, it's show time," Ryton McKenna observed to his new friend as the pilot undogged the hatch and deployed the boarding steps. The two men stepped down and walked toward the reception committee. He subconsciously slowed his pace just slightly to give himself more time to size up the situation. Rick Castle was a known quantity, especially considering how much they had worked together in the last year. The tall young woman must be the federal agent that had helped Rick take down the terrorists. The intelligence summaries hadn't mentioned that they were a couple, but he was getting a distinct couple vibe. The dark-skinned woman then must be the second federal agent that had been mentioned. She was stunning in a snow leopard print mini dress, with legs that seemed to go on forever, but she was standing closer to the other male in the group than was necessary, another couple vibe.

Ry grunted softly to himself; the field was narrowing. His attention shifted to the blonde, and he felt a surge of adrenaline. He would bet his pension that she was the oldest of the four women, late forties he would guess, but not so much from simple physical clues, but from an almost palpable air of confidence and awareness of who and what she was. She was wearing a dress that flaunted her curves without being overly daring (he was no expert, but he bet it cost a pretty penny to resolve that dichotomy), and her long blonde hair framed her face with soft curls. He met her gaze, sapphire blue eyes conveying simultaneously friendliness, intelligence, and a degree of amusement at this whole scheme of Rick's. There was something unsettlingly familiar about her and he flogged his memory for clues. Actress? Singer? No, not those, but someone he knew that he should recognize.

Bobby Pender strode across the concrete landing pad beside the general and made his own observations like those made by his friend, four supremely attractive women, but only one that drew more than a passing glance from him, and he was pretty sure that Rick, the sneaky bastard, had planned it that way. She was neither short nor tall, five foot, six inches or so, trimly curvaceous without being overblown and obviously fit and muscular.

Her stance evoked an almost regal composure and self-confidence that would have done one of the great queens of history proud. She was dressed the most conservatively of the four women, a simple crocheted and beaded dress that fell to mid-calf and the deep burgundy color brought out her skin tone to perfection.

####

Jordan was still internally debating the wisdom of this whole blind date thing, when the two men climbed down from the helicopter and approached the waiting group. Halfway across the pad, she recognized the dark-skinned man. _"Holy crap,"_ she thought. _"Rick set one of us up with the Governor of Louisiana! Now I wonder who the other guy is_ _?_ _"_ She waited somewhat warily to see if Bobby Pender would recognize her. They had met once at some White House thing, but she had been in her AG persona with her hair up in a tight bun. Even Rick tended to do a double take on the rare occasions when she let her hair down. She felt his gaze slide over her to settle on Tori and she chuckled lightly to herself; the governor was going to find he had his hands full.

The other man reminded her a little of Rick – the same little boy curiosity and wonder, but tempered with a few more years. The man was a bit taller than Rick, maybe six feet, three and a bit lankier, but still a wonderfully sturdy-looking fellow, short blonde hair tending to gray at the temples, the kind of tan that only 30 plus years in the outdoors would produce, sea blue eyes, and a cocky grin that made her want to kiss him senseless. _"Wait a minute! Where did that come from? Damn you_ _,_ _Rick, you know me too well."_

Rick left the group and advanced to meet the two men who greeted him warmly. "I see you two gentlemen have met each other." He grinned. "And I really appreciate you two helping me out like this, especially on such short notice."

The governor spoke up. "How are we going to work this, Rick? Neither Ry nor I have ever been to Key West. Do the ladies know where we're going?"

"No, as far as I know, neither of them has been there either. Here, take these." He handed them each a memory card that they plugged into their phones. "This lists the best clubs, restaurants, and so forth that are all within easy walking distance of the helipad. There should be enough information there for you all to choose from. There are already reservations at each of these spots for the entire night, so you don't have to worry about what time you get there. The choppers will be available to bring you back here until 2 AM. After that you'll have to swim."

The two men laughed and shared a look. Rick Castle not only had an eye for the ladies, he sure had a way of getting things done when he wanted to. "So, are you ready to meet your dates?"

"You bet."

"Lay on, Macduff."

Rick led them back to the rest of the group. "First let me introduce the folks who are not involved in the great blind date event. This is Special Agent Kate Beckett, Special Agent Hayley Shipton, and Javier Esposito, Director of Security at Orion." He motioned Tori forward. "Tori Ellis, I'd like you to meet Bobby Pender. Bobby this is Tori Ellis."

"Pleased to meet you, Bobby." Tori offered her hand, which he took and bowed low placing a chaste kiss on the back of her hand.

"I assure you the pleasure is all mine. Shall we go?" He offered her his arm and they strolled back toward the helicopter.

"Jordan Shaw, I'd like you to meet Ryton McKenna. Ry, this is Jordan Shaw."

It took a lot to shake Ry McKenna, but that did it. Jordan offered her hand with a smile, "Don't believe everything you see on TV, I don't bite…much."

"Pardon me, ma'am, but you were the last person I would have expected–"

" _Damn, a hunk and an Australian accent, too_. I'm warning you, Mr. McKenna. If you refer to me as ma'am again, I'll have one of my minions over there shoot you."

"Sorry ma…uh…Jordan."

"All right then, Jordan, shall we proceed?" He offered her his arm and they walked to the waiting helicopter.

"You're looking awfully pleased with yourself," Kate observed as the helicopter lifted off.

Rick grinned at her, "Did you see the look on Ry's face when he realized who his date was? That was priceless."

"Who are those guys anyway?" she asked.

"Yeah," Hayley interjected from the other side of the four wheeler. "Inquiring minds want to know."

"Bobby Pender is the governor of Louisiana, and Ry McKenna is the military attaché at the Australian embassy in Washington."

Kate and Hayley traded incredulous glances. "You set Tori up with the governor of Louisiana?"

"Yes, I did. They make a striking couple, don't you think?"

"Well, yes," Hayley admitted. "But still…a governor?"

"Governors can date, especially if they're single, which Bobby is."

"Rick, you never cease to amaze me." Kate squeezed his hand for emphasis.

Another helicopter appeared over the trees and settled onto the pad. Kate noticed that it was the same one that they had arrived in earlier in the week. Jared, the young pilot, hopped out and opened the passenger door for the two couples as they approached.

Kate barely had time to sink into the plush seats of the helicopter before it landed. Rick offered her a hand, which she accepted with a smile, four-inch heels not being well adapted for negotiating boarding steps. Javier and Hayley left on their own adventure. "Where are you taking me, Mr. Castle?" she asked.

"You'll see. Come on, it's not far." He kept his hold on her hand and they strolled casually along the sidewalk. Kate noticed the strains of a steel drum band that got louder as they walked. "Here we are," Rick announced as they reached a sand-colored stucco building. Kate could see that the roof was a deck which seemed to be the source of the Caribbean rhythms she had been enjoying as they walked. He held one of the double glass doors for her to enter and she read the name off the door: The Rum Barrel.

Kate giggled at the name. "Are you going to try to get me drunk so you can have your wicked way with me, Mr. Castle?"

He gave her his goofy grin. "One out of two; not bad, Sparrow Hawk."

"Which one?"

"Which one would you prefer?"

"I don't know. I do really like rum," she teased.

"Evil woman."

Their wordplay was interrupted by the hostess. "Good evening, Mr. Castle, would you like your usual table?"

"Yes, thank you, Sandra." They followed her to a table in the back corner. As the hostess left, their waiter appeared.

"Good evening, Mr. Castle. Would you and the lady care for a drink before dinner?"

"Good evening, Mitch," Rick responded warmly. "Have you heard anything about that scholarship?"

"Yes sir, I just got the letter day before yesterday – a full ride at Princeton."

Rick stood and shook the young man's hand enthusiastically. "That's great, I know you'll do well."

"I don't know how to thank you for your letter of recommendation, sir. I'm pretty sure that was a decisive factor."

"You don't have to thank me, Mitch. You did a wonderful job during your summer internship at the Institute. All I did was make the folks at Princeton aware of it. As far as drinks are concerned, bring my usual, but for two this time." The young man headed to the bar, and Kate gave Rick a knowing glance.

"Spreading your money around again, I see," she remarked matter-of-factly.

"Mitch didn't say anything about money; he only thanked me for a letter I wrote."

"True, but be honest, Rick, how much of the money is coming from you?

"All of it," he finally admitted. Kate was once again amazed at his generosity and how much of himself he lavished on the people he helped.

Mitch returned with a tray and carefully placed it in front of Rick. Kate studied the contents of the tray: a bowl of halved limes, a small flask of a clear liquid, a slightly larger flask of a dark amber-colored liquid, a small pitcher of ice water, and two empty highball glasses. Rick started to make the drinks by squeezing lime juice into each glass. "One of sour." Then he added a bit of the clear liquid. "Two of sweet." Next, he added a good bit of the dark liquid. "Three of strong." Finally, he added water and ice from the pitcher. "Four of weak." He stirred each drink with a flourish and passed one glass to Kate, who regarded it skeptically.

"Is this a cocktail or magic potion? That little chant you were doing as you mixed it sounded suspiciously like 'eye of newt and toe of frog.'"

"Okay, you caught me, it's an ancient Carib Indian aphrodisiac"

"You think I need an aphrodisiac, Mr. Castle?" She skewered him with a glare. "You think I'm not woman enough for you without some magic potion?"

Rick swallowed hard. _"Ouch, I seem to have hit a nerve there_ _,_ _"_ he thought. "It was just a joke, Kate."

"A really bad joke!" she huffed.

"Granted, a really bad joke. I'm pretty sure that any artificial enhancements to your natural hotness would be way more than I could handle."

"Really?"

"Really."

"What's this concoction then?"

"It's just a simple rum punch. The chant is the recipe: one part lime juice, two parts simple syrup, three parts rum, and four parts water."

She took a tentative sip, "Oh wow, that's good."

"Do you like lobster bisque?"

He almost laughed at the way her eyes lit up. "Is the pope Catholic?"

Then he did laugh, "I'll take that as a yes. Is it okay if I order for you?"

"Yes, please."

Mitch arrived to remove the tray and asked, "Are you folks ready to order?"

"Yes," Rick replied. "We'll have the lobster pot pie with a side of spicy 'sparagus. We'll share one."

"Very good, Mr. Castle. It'll be right out."

"You seem to be pretty well known here," Kate observed after Mitch had disappeared.

"Yeah, I come here at least once every trip to the island."

They made small talk until Mitch returned with their dinner. The pot pie was huge and Kate could see why Rick had suggested that they share. She dug up a spoonful of the pie and popped it into her mouth. Her heartfelt moan of pleasure had Rick grinning. The filling was thumb-sized chunks of lobster in a lobster bisque that was rich and creamy with just the right amount of spice. The crust was flaky and buttery, providing the perfect counterpoint to the filling. _"I've got to have this recipe,"_ she thought.

"Well?" Rick questioned.

"Sooo good," she moaned again as she took her second bite. "Is this stuff legal?"

"Oooh, can I try out my new handcuffs?"

"In your dreams, Mr. Castle."

"Dreams can come true, you know," Rick observed.

"If you're a good boy tonight, I'll think about it."

"And if I'm bad?

"Then I'll have to use **my** handcuffs."

"I'm not worried," he declared with a grin.

"And why not?'

"I'm pretty sure there's no place in that dress to carry handcuffs, but it might be worth it just to find out."

"Rick!

####

Rick and Kate entered Virgilio's to the captivating rhythms of a live salsa band. He could feel her energy level ratcheting upward and her hips started to move before they even reached the dance floor. She led him onto the dance floor as he desperately tried to remember the basic steps. In the end, it didn't matter. Instinct kicked in, his hands found their proper places, and they began to move together. Rick had never been a great salsa dancer, but he was the perfect foil for Kate as he spun, twirled, and lifted her, all the while mesmerized by the uninhibited swing of her hips and precise flicks of her legs.

At some point, his brain recovered enough to realize that they were alone on the floor and the erstwhile dancers were standing with awestruck expressions. The song ended and Kate collapsed in his arms as the other patrons applauded vigorously. She blushed hotly but twisted in his arms and leaned in to plant a quick but hot kiss on his lips.

"That was incredible, Rick," she whispered breathlessly. "I didn't know you could dance like that."

He somehow found his voice. "That was all you, sweetheart. So hot, so very hot."

"Really?"

"Holy…Kate, every straight guy, half the gay guys, and a third of the women in here want you right now." She leaned in again and gave him a kiss that almost buckled his knees. "What was that for?"

"Just letting them know I'm taken."

Their moment was interrupted by a well-dressed man who walked over to the microphone in front of the band. "Let's hear it again for our salsa couple!" Applause broke out again, and the man continued, "We have a tradition here at Virgilio's called the 'It Takes Two to Tango Challenge.' If our couple here would be willing to show us a tango, then they drink free for the rest of the night. What do you say folks?"

Rick and Kate exchanged glances. Blue eyes said yes, hazel said hell yes. Rick nodded to the man at the microphone and walked over to the band leader. The two conferred for a second before Rick returned to Kate and they assumed the starting position, close hold, chests together. The music started, and Kate felt a flutter of surprise as she recognized the song, Bryan Adams' _Have You Ever Really Loved a Woman._ The band leader added a bit of a flamenco overlay to the acoustic guitar riffs, and then he began to sing:

 **To really love a woman**

 **To understand her - you gotta know her deep inside**

 **Hear every thought - see every dream**

 **N' give her wings - if she wants to fly**

 **Then when you find yourself lyin' helpless in her arms**

 **You know you really love a woman….**

Kate's eyes were glistening with unshed tears as Rick began to move. She followed instinctively, almost as if they had been doing this for a lifetime. Their eyes locked, intense blue and luscious hazel, souls bared, nothing held back, an infinity of mutual need and want and promise flashing through the super-heated air between them. The dance started slow and sensual, each step small and deliberate, spelling out their love in a code only they could interpret.

With each verse the tempo increased, demanding larger steps and a faster pace that only served to drive their passion to new heights. As the music ended, Kate hooked her leg behind his thigh and pulled him in for kiss that sent his already manic heart rate into overdrive. The bar exploded with cheers and applause, everyone knowing they had just seen something special.

"I don't think I can dance any more Rick," she breathed.

"Me either. Why don't we find a seat and try out the free booze? I think we earned it."

"Okay," she smiled and followed him through the crowd to an empty booth. As they were seating themselves, the man who had manned the microphone appeared with a martini glass in each hand.

"Hi folks. I'm Tony, I own the bar, and I must say I've never seen anything like that tango. I thought you were going to melt a hole in the floor. Anyway, I'd like to give you your first drink, our signature Apple Jack Martini. If you'd prefer something else, please feel free to order anything you'd like. He handed the glasses to Rick and Kate and left still shaking his head at what he'd seen.

Kate took a sip of her drink. "This is actually pretty good."

Rick followed suit. Normally he was not a fan of exotic martinis, but if Kate vouched for it, he was willing to give it a try. "Yeah, better than I thought, but I still prefer the traditional kind."

"Rick?"

"Yes, Kate?"

"How did you learn to tango? You were amazing."

"I took ballroom dance lessons back in the day."

"Really, what led you to do that?"

He gave an embarrassed cough. "I... uh...I thought it would be a good way to meet girls."

Kate rolled her eyes. "And how did that work out for you?"

He gave her a cheeky grin. "Pretty well, actually."

"I'll bet."

"However, for meeting super-hot kick-ass **women** , I think the local FBI office has it all over a mere dance floor."

"Good save, Mr. Castle."

"I thought so." They both laughed.

They sat quietly for a while, fingers laced together and sipping their drinks. Kate glanced at her watch: 11:47. "Rick?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Thank you for the most amazing evening ever."

"You're welcome, I've had an incredible time, too." But he could tell that she wasn't finished.

"Can we go back to the island? I don't really feel like dancing anymore."

"Okay." He hit speed dial 10 on his phone, alerting Jared to have the chopper ready.

The big house was empty when they arrived, none of the others having returned yet. Rick followed her into his bedroom and shed his blazer, draping it over one of the armchairs. Kate turned to him with a barely detectable smile. "Go shower while I get out of this dress."

He took a tentative step toward her. "I could hel…"

"Rick, shower."

"Yes, dear," he muttered, earning him a glare. He stopped by his dresser to grab a clean pair of boxers and a t-shirt, then disappeared into the bathroom. When he returned, Kate was sitting in one of the armchairs and the dress was draped across his blazer, triggering all kinds of inappropriate thoughts. She was wearing his favorite robe and she stood as he returned. "I'm going to shower too, I'll be out in a minute."

Rick's spidey senses were tingling and he wracked his brain for ideas as to what might be bothering her. Maybe she was just tired. It had admittedly been a tough week and an eventful night. Yeah, that was probably it, just tired. He turned out the lights and turned down the covers on the bed. He propped himself against the headboard and sat quietly.

It was only a few minutes until she returned. She seemed unaccountably shy and tentative, kicking Rick's spidey senses into high gear. Something was going on. He sat up straighter as she approached, but she stopped at the foot of the bed. She swallowed hard. "Rick?"

"Yes?"

"What's that ridiculous hillbilly saying about marsupials that you use all the time?"

"There's more than one way to cook a possum?"

"Yeah, that one." She slowly untied the belt and let the robe slide to the floor. "Show me."

The sight of the lacy dark purple lingerie set energized his limbs. He bounded off the bed and scooped her up and kissed her until she laughingly pleaded with him to put her down. Lying face to face, he let his hands roam freely for the first time, finding those spots that triggered a catch in her breathing or a moan or involuntary shiver of delight. In another couple of minutes, they had helped each other shed the little clothing that remained, and his magic fingers claimed fresh territory, driving her to heights of ecstasy she had never imagined possible.

####

Hayley and Javier entered the quiet house leaning together, arms around each other's waist. There was no indication that anyone else had returned, so they stopped in the sitting area for a passionate kiss before she took him by the hand and led him toward her bedroom.

Jordan was trying hard to suppress a giddy smile as Ry drove the four wheeler south from the helipad toward Rick's house. It had been an amazing evening. Ry McKenna – Brigadier General McKenna, she had discovered – was intelligent, cultured, witty, attentive, and a heck of a good dancer. Perhaps the best news was that he was going to be living in Washington for several years. Who knew what might develop?

Ry McKenna's thoughts were running along a similar track. Once he got over the initial shock that his blind date was the U.S. Attorney General, he found the woman herself fascinating. Warm, charming, a deliciously wicked sense of humor, and undoubtedly one of the smartest people he had ever met. Did he mention sexy as hell? Oh yes, and that dress should be illegal. He was wondering whether trying to steal a good night kiss would create an international incident when they arrived at Rick's house. She backed him against the wall in the foyer and kissed him till his pulse rate made a hummingbird's seem positively languid, and whatever mental capacity he had once possessed departed for a far country.

She finally took pity on him and stepped back with a devastating smile. "I had a wonderful time, General McKenna. I think we should finish this later in a more private setting." She turned toward her bedroom, purposefully putting a little extra sway to her hips, letting the Hervé Léger work its magic.

####

Tori was also pleased with her date, perhaps not quite so giddily as Jordan, but still quite happy. Bobby Pender was a gentleman first and foremost. It was also obvious that he truly cared about the people of his state and he was full of ideas and plans to help even its most humble citizens live lives of purpose and dignity. If someone could help him relax and enjoy life on occasion, he'd probably be even more effective.

 **Atlantic Ocean near Gunslinger Key** **,** **Saturday October 15**

The pseudo _Astrakhan coasted_ to a halt, rocking almost imperceptibly in the gentle swells rolling in from the southeast. "Open the bow doors," Captain Zaytsev ordered, and a mechanical whine accompanied the metallic clunks as the bow opened like a giant clamshell. Quiet as a summer breeze, seven inflatable assault boats slipped into the water and turned west. The boats each carried 10 men and their electric motors drove them silently toward the small island just visible on the horizon.

Colonel Tyurin's boat was the first to the beach and he leapt ashore, watching as the rest of the men spread out in a security perimeter. So far there was no sound other than the gentle slap of the surf and the chittering of the night creatures from the thick undergrowth bordering the beach. Taking a quick glance at his watch, he grunted in satisfaction. 03:00, the Americans would be asleep, helpless, no need to even break a sweat.

The other six boats landed and disgorged their passengers. Major Savarin, second in command, quickly assembled his teams and headed north along a dimly lighted path. His three teams, thirty men, were responsible for the inhabitants of the small house in the center of the island and the large house on the north end. Colonel Tyurin himself led another three teams toward the large house about 500 meters south of their landing. One ten-man team would remain to provide security for their transport and serve as a reserve in the unlikely event that one of the two strike forces ran into trouble.

 **Gunslinger Key, Saturday October 15**

Rick Castle lay propped up on one elbow, mesmerized by the metronomic rise and fall of her chest as Kate slept. He thought she was stunning under any circumstances, but now…. An angelic smile played across her features, her hair tousled, and fists clutching the tangled bedclothes that barely covered her. He would have sworn that such an enchanting creature could not exist in this mundane plane of existence. _"Even being restricted to_ _'_ _make-do_ _'_ _sex, they had managed well,"_ he thought. No, they had managed damned well; that possum had been broiled, roasted, fricasseed, blackened, and stir-fried. Only exhaustion had ended their "culinary" endeavors. Who would have thunk it, given her history? But Kate Beckett was no prude and her imagination was second to none – including himself, who could be extremely creative when it came to pleasing a woman.

A momentary realization sobered him; they couldn't go on like this. Kate was no mere dalliance, no passing fancy. She was the love of his life and he was old-fashioned enough for that truth to have its own imperative. He needed to show her that it was forever. He needed to show the world that they were one; that their commitment was to the death. A ghost of a smile flickered across his countenance as he thought of the powder blue Tiffany's jewelry box in its hiding place. The logistics were in place, awaiting only a time, a place, and a presentation.

He lay for some time, mulling over how to do it in a way that would be intimate but memorable. Something that she would treasure. Thousands of options thrashed around in his mind until he felt a headache building. Maybe some fresh air would clear his mind. A quick glance at the clock indicated 02:41 but trying to get away without waking Kate was easier said than done.

She grumbled sleepily as he rolled out of bed. "Rick? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, sweetheart. Just can't get my mind to settle down, so I think I'll take a quick walk." He slipped on a pair of dark gray drawstring pants and a long sleeve navy t-shirt to keep the mosquitoes at bay.

"Do you want me…?"

"Just go back to sleep, sweetheart. I won't be gone long." He reached out to draw the back of his fingers along her jaw line, the familiar spark causing a delightful shiver in them both.

"Don't be too long," she mumbled tiredly before rolling over and snuggling back into the comforter.

"Nothing of this earth could keep me from coming back to you," he whispered as he slipped out the French doors onto the deck.

####

Colonel Tyurin's Spetsnaz operators moved out quickly like the elite troops they were. The plan was simple and well-rehearsed, near foolproof come to that. One ten-man team would move south along the beach until they reached the dock, then turn inland; approaching the large house from the east. The second team accompanied by the colonel himself would follow the graveled path that angled to the southwest through a densely overgrown mixed stand of palmettos, live oaks, and mangroves. This team would approach the house from the north and conduct the actual assault on the residence, killing everyone inside.

The third team had the most challenging task, not because of any danger from the island's inhabitants, but simply because they had to move to the west side of the island through the overgrown area to cover the west side of the house. The attacks on all three residences were supposed to be synchronized and team three reaching their assigned position was the trigger. It was a good, workman-like, professional plan, and it started to fall apart almost immediately.

Vienna awoke annoyed, doubly annoyed as there were two distinct sources; her husband was shaking her roughly and loudly urging her to get out of bed, and something was making a thoroughly irritating WOOP—WOOP—WOOP sound. Awareness slammed into her like a clap of thunder. "Oh shit, that's the alarm; they're back." She tumbled out of bed, drawing a purple silk kimono over her nightgown. "Get the kids," she urged her husband as she strode quickly to the gun cabinet and placed her hand on the biometric recognition plate. Akahiro nodded and started for the door, but 10-year-old Kamika and 13-year-old Shoji came tumbling into the room, wide-eyed and breathless. Akahiro gathered them up and turned to his wife who was roundly cursing the gun cabinet for its slowness. The corners of his mouth quirked upward in a transient smile. Vienna never used profanity, at least not English profanity.

The gun cabinet clicked open after a half second that only seemed like eternity and she pulled out a Benelli tactical shotgun which she tossed to her husband. He caught it one handed, just in time to snag the ammo pouch that followed. He checked to make sure that it was loaded and chambered a round with casual competence born of many hours of instruction by Rick as part of his "keep Vienna safe at all costs" campaign. He was at best an indifferent shot with a handgun, but he had developed a better than average level of skill with the shotgun. And that along with his fierce determination to defend his family would serve them well in the next few minutes.

Vienna retrieved a tactical vest which included a holstered Beretta 9 mm and slipped it on over her kimono. As she started to usher her family out into the hall, her son planted himself in front of her. "I want my gun, Mom," he stated forcefully.

She thought for a second and turned back to the gun cabinet. She handed the 20-gauge Benelli pump to the boy with a grimace. She didn't know for sure yet what they were facing, but if it was as bad as her tingling senses were signaling, an extra shooter might mean the difference between life and death. "Remember what Uncle Rick taught you," she admonished.

The boy rolled his eyes. "Yes, Mommm."

"All right let's go," she said, leading the way to the door. On the way, she removed the wakizashi from its display stand on her dresser and slipped it through the belt on her kimono. She met her husband's quizzical look with a nod. At close quarters, the short version of the traditional samurai sword was a fearsome weapon when wielded by an accomplished swordswoman, and Vienna was about as accomplished as anyone in the western hemisphere.

Vienna's home consisted of three levels. The top level was occupied by bedrooms, the middle level by the main living area and the ground level by an indoor pool, game room, and most importantly, a safe room. A north-south hallway ran the full length of the house with French doors at each end. The indoor pool was on the east side of the hallway and the safe room and game room opened onto the hall from the west side.

Vienna reached the ground floor and peeked out of the stairwell, checking the hallway in both directions. Seeing no intruders, she led her family the dozen or so steps to the entrance to the safe room. Ushering the children inside, she turned to the LED screen mounted just inside the entrance and logged on to the security system.

First, she silenced the infernal racket of the alarm and then quickly scanned the sensors covering the approaches to the house from the south. There were four avenues of approach by which an intruder could reach her home from the southern end of the island: the beaches on the east and west sides of the island, the graveled cart path that led south to Kenan's house and the helipad, and an obscure footpath that paralleled the cart path, but around a hundred meters to the west. The rest of the ground between her house and Kenan's was thick undergrowth.

The sensors tied in to the security system clearly showed a couple of dozen intruders to the south around Rick's house and another couple of dozen near Kenan's house. It also showed four individuals moving rapidly up the footpath toward her. "I think that must be Kenan and his family," she said.

Akahiro gauged the distances with his eyes. "Looks like they'll get here well before the bad guys."

"Yeah," she agreed. Her phone buzzed, and she was surprised to find that the caller was not Rick, but rather Javier Esposito.

####

Rick left the house and walked toward the shore. When he reached the dock, he stood debating for a moment and then turned north following the path to one of the island's private beaches. He walked the familiar path on auto pilot, barely conscious of his surroundings. The midnight excursion which had sounded like such a clever idea in the bedroom, wasn't getting it done. He still had a frustrating cacophony of thoughts and ideas tumbling about in his mind. How would Kate react if he proposed? How should he do it? Privately or in front of their friends? When?

He stepped out of the woods onto the beach and it was a second before he realized that something was terribly wrong. The secluded beach was jam-packed with troops scurrying about purposefully. He barely had time to process the sensory data when a bomb seemed to explode in the back of his skull and everything went black.


	93. Chapter 93

A/N Thanks for reading and commenting. Just a couple more Chapters.

Special Thanks to Lady Ailith for her usual stellar editing.

Javier lay quietly, watching Hayley sleep. Their first time had been everything he had hoped it would be. He failed to suppress a grin; the second and third times hadn't been bad, either. Now he was in trouble. Hayley was not the type to engage in casual sex. Their time together meant something to her, something precious and he realized with a rush of emotion that it was precious to him as well. _WOOP_ _WOOP_ _WOOP_ The incredible stridency of the alarm jolted him upright.

"What is it?" Hayley asked sleepily.

"Intruder alarm." He rolled out of the bed and slipped on his boxers, a pair of sweatpants, and a t-shirt. "I'm going to see Rick. Get everyone else up and meet in the den."

"Okay," she agreed, now fully awake.

He trotted into the kitchen and activated the alarm system monitor. "Oh damn!" He rapidly scanned through the various sensors scattered around the island. This wasn't just an intruder, this was a fucking invasion! Where the hell was Rick anyway? A few seconds that seemed like centuries passed with no sign of Rick. _Screw it,_ he ran to Rick's bedroom and pounded furiously on the closed door. Suddenly the door was jerked open, revealing a half-dressed Kate Beckett.

Any other day, Javier would have appreciated the view, but right now he had more pressing matters to attend to. "Where's Rick?" he asked urgently.

"I don't know, he went for a walk. What's going on?"

"We've got visitors, a lot of visitors. Get dressed, something dark if you have it."

Kate didn't waste time on meaningless chatter but turned and dashed into her closet. She pulled on a pair of black jeans and a black knit tank top, then grabbed her running shoes before making a beeline for the den. Ry and Bobby were studying the monitor and Javier was unlocking a door that opened off the kitchen. He disappeared into what appeared to be a large closet and tossed a pile of what looked like dark gray sweatshirts onto kitchen floor.

"What're these?" Kate questioned.

"It's a new bulletproof material that the institute is getting ready to put on the market. Put them on, we don't have much time."

She tossed one of the garments to each person and they tugged them on just as Javier reappeared with an armload of conventional Kevlar vests.

"Put these on over the shirts; they help absorb the impact." He disappeared back into the room, returning with an armload of M-4 carbines. He handed them to Kate to pass out while he returned for magazine pouches. Javier noticed that Kate was carrying Rick's phone. "May I borrow that?"

"Sure." She gave him the device and watched while he hit speed dial one. Vienna answered immediately.

"Rick?"

"Sorry, Vienna, this is Javier. We don't know where Rick is.

"What!" she exclaimed. "You lost Rick? How'd you do that?"

"He went for a walk before the alarm went off and right now we don't know where he is."

"Do you think they got him?"

"Maybe, what's your situation?"

"Kenan's family is on their way here with what looks like a couple of dozen bad guys hot on their heels. We're all in the safe room, but I'm not going to seal it until they get here."

"Sounds good. Once they get there, activate Firestorm. You'll have to operate it in manual mode until we know Rick's location."

"Got it, good luck."

"Yeah, you too." He turned to Ry. "What do you think?"

"I think we need to get the hell out of here," the general replied. "If they've got RPGs this house will be a deathtrap."

Javier nodded in emphatic agreement. "Rick has a firing range about 300 meters north of here. It's surrounded by densely packed earth berms so it's probably the safest place on the island right now."

Ry noted the three groups converging on the house. "Look here. This group seems to be lagging the other two. If we head west right now we should be able to slip past them and get out of the kill zone, at least for a while."

"Agreed, let's go now. I'll take point and Ry, you watch our six." Javier led the group out heading for the beach. When they had gone about 25 meters, Kate suddenly turned and ran back toward the house.

"Kate!" Ry tried to grab her arm as she streaked past, but she was accelerating like a top fuel dragster and his desperate grab missed. He hesitated for only second before running after her. She bounded up the steps, through the kitchen, and into Rick's bedroom. When Ry finally caught up, she was dragging a large container out of the closet. "Are you crazy?"

"We need this, help me," she demanded.

"What is it?"

"It's a Valkyrie. I'll explain later, but it's too heavy for me."

"Okay, okay. But this better be good," he muttered. Just at that moment, the French doors from the deck exploded inward, propelled by a long burst of automatic rifle fire and three men crashed into the room.

 **Braap** **Braap** **Braap** Before Ry could react, Kate fired three bursts and the faces of the intruders dissolved into red ruin. _Damn, that girl is quick,_ he marveled, _and headshots to boot._ Hefting the case, he grunted with the effort. Son of a gun, it was heavy, a lot heavier than he would have guessed from its size. Kate was the first out the door and into the sitting area. **Braap** **Braap** **Braap,** the three intruders in the sitting area went down hard, clearing a path to the door.

They clambered down the steps and raced for the beach. Javier met them, having realized that part of his group had turned back. "What the hell were you doing," he demanded. Then seeing Ry's burden, he looked at Kate. "You went back for the Valkyrie." More statement than question. "Good thinking. You may have just saved our lives."

With both Javier and Ry lugging the Valkyrie case and Kate watching their back, they quickly reached the rest of the group and pressed on to the firing range.

####

Colonel Tyurin paused at the foot of Rick's steps, puzzled by the volume of the gunfire coming from inside the residence. Sergeant Birkov who had led the assault teams into the residence, staggered down the steps and collapsed onto the sand at the colonel's feet. Tyurin was stunned to see that the sergeant's jumpsuit was thoroughly soaked with blood. "What happened?"

The sergeant struggled to speak. "The house was empty, except for two targets in the large bedroom. They took out that section and then ran into my section as we breached the main door. My men are all dead." He coughed up a large gout of blood and his head lolled to the side.

Colonel Tyurin was a combat veteran and he quickly moved to get control of the situation. First, he made the conscious decision to break radio silence to communicate with his troops. Corporal Mitcol who had led the third element into the house, assured him that the house was indeed empty, adding that the two people who had ripped his assault echelon to shreds had left the house on the west side, headed toward the beach.

Team three was supposed to block that avenue of escape but a quick call confirmed that they were still struggling through the overgrown area. _Damn, if they got past team three, it'll take forever to run them down in the thick growth that covered most of the island._ His head suddenly jerked up at the sound of heavy firing from the north end of the island.

####

Vienna left Akahiro at the entrance to the safe room. She ran to the south entrance and peered across the fifty yards or so of open lawn that ended at the tree line. Four figures burst out of the woods at a fast trot and she breathed a sigh of relief. Kenan, his wife Azura, and their two teenage sons, all armed, had arrived.

 **Boom** **Boom** **Boom** from behind her chilled her to the marrow. Somehow some of the enemy had gotten around to the north side. She wheeled and headed back into house at a dead run. At that moment Vienna came as close to abject panic as she would ever come in her life as she burst into the hallway. The far end was crowded with gray clad troops and her husband faced them alone. His shotgun held six rounds and he had already fired three. He wouldn't have time to reload and the troops would pour into the safe room. Akahiro fired his last three shots and the enemy was returning fire. Hit, Akahiro spun around and collapsed heavily. Vienna's panic evaporated, replaced by sheer fury. Forgetting that she had a pistol, she swept the wakizashi from its scabbard and charged forward with a scream of pure rage.

No one would ever know for sure how she covered the 10 paces without being hit, but the point of the sword took the lead assailant in the throat. She drew the blade back as she had been taught and the assailant collapsed, his head nearly severed from his body. She brought the blade down in a slashing stroke with all her weight and strength behind it and the second trooper in line looked stupidly at the stump of his arm, blood fountaining. A smashing blow to the chest drove her back and she lost her footing, crashing to the floor beside her husband. Two of the invaders raised their rifles and she braced herself for the impact. _Shuck_ **Boom,** _shuck_ **Boom** , _shuck_ **Boom** , and the two shooters were driven back. She twisted painfully to the side and saw her young son standing resolutely over his father, working the action on the shotgun he had received for his birthday.

Then… **Boom Boom Boom** The concussion assaulted her ears as Kenan, his wife, and sons swept past Shoji, firing like maniacs. The remaining assailants went down in a sleet storm of buckshot. Azura sent her sons into the safe room with Shoji and she knelt by Vienna who was struggling to stand and go to her husband.

"Where were you hit?" Azura asked.

"In the chest," Vienna gasped, "My vest stopped it, but it hurts like hell. Help me over to Akahiro." Supported by Azura, she knelt by her husband and her heart leapt in her chest as he groaned. Thank God he was still alive. Kenan, who was examining him, met Vienna's gaze.

"It's not as bad as it looks. He has two flesh wounds and a graze on his head. I think he has a concussion and the head wound bled like crazy. But I think he'll be okay if we can beat off this attack."

"Let's see what's going on outside." Vienna and Azura made their painful way to the security system monitor while Kenan and one of his sons carried Akahiro inside. "We don't know where Rick is," Vienna informed Kenan when he rejoined them. "He went for a walk right before the alarm tripped."

"Do you have video of the beach just north of the dock?" Kenan inquired.

"Sure," she replied, giving him a quizzical look, "What are you thinking, Kenan?"

"That's where they landed. If they captured him, that's probably where they would hold him."

"And if they didn't capture him?" Vienna couldn't stop herself from asking even though she dreaded the answer with a bone deep, soul-chilling sense of impending loss.

Kenan shrugged eloquently, his eyes bleak. "I'm going to look for him," his tone brooking no argument. "He'd do nothing less for me."

Vienna considered that for a moment then gave a short nod. "Go. I'll seal the safe room, Azura and the boys will be fine."

He nodded gratefully. "Give me two minutes to get out of the line of fire before you activate Firestorm." And he was gone, disappearing into the woods to the east just as the first of the enemy followed the cart path out of the tree line to the south.

Vienna spared a moment to check on her family. Akahiro lay stretched out on one of the couches and Azura was working to bandage his wounds. He met her gaze and waved a bit weakly but clearly alive and not in mortal danger now. The children were kneeling next to Azura, trying to help care for their father. Her heart raced at the memory of her son standing his ground in a gunfight with a dozen armed assailants and arguably saving all their lives. She smiled a brief but pained smile; her son was not a little boy any more. He was a man. He was Samurai. Now to end this. She turned back to the screen and tapped the icon to activate Firestorm.

####

The Orion Institute's business model was quite simple: take an idea (whether their own or someone else's) and develop, miniaturize, magnify, tweak, tune, and modify it until something extraordinary emerged. Something commercially viable or an addition to the growing stable of weapons that Rick kept in his own arsenal, reserved unto the day when the Czar played his hand and found that there were a lot of aces up Orion's sleeve.

While Orion had an almost pathological aversion to publicity, word of mouth could not be denied and it had developed a reputation. Many a struggling inventor had opened an unassuming envelope to find a royalty check that rocked their world. Indeed, the world's best scientists, engineers, and designers coveted a call from Vienna Takayoshi the way an aspiring writer coveted a call from a major publishing house.

One of those calls had resulted in Firestorm. To put it simply, Firestorm was a gun barrel with individual projectiles stacked nose to tail. Each projectile contained an integral propellant charge and (depending on the application) a bursting charge. The resultant weapon had only one moving part (the projectile) and was fired by electrical signal. The typical configuration had ten rounds per barrel, but the barrels could be clustered in any number desired. The weapons which deployed as a response to Vienna's signal, each consisted of a cluster of ten 40 mm barrels, with ten rounds each. The projectiles were Orion's own contribution to the system: smart projectiles consisting of a small bursting charge of a Fullerene derived explosive and a bundle of tungsten flechettes that packed the destructive power of a light artillery shell in a 40 mm grenade. Scientists jokingly referred to the Fullerene class of compounds as _Bucky Balls,_ since their chemical structure bore a striking resemblance to the geodesic domes invented by the renowned architect, Buckminster Fuller. Rick had gotten a derisive snort and an eye roll from Vienna when he had suggested (with a perfectly straight face) that they call the grenades _Bucky Bombs._

####

There were four of the weapons concealed around the perimeter of Vienna's home and three of them bore on the current threat axis. Three men were crouching just inside the wood line, evidently conducting a visual reconnaissance and trying to figure out what had happened to their assault element. The remainder – two dozen or so – were still concealed along the path prepared to rush out and destroy everything that she treasured.

Vienna had always been a woman who exemplified kindness and compassion. But in the short span of a quarter hour, every charitable impulse had been hammered out of her and her hands flew over the screen setting up a full salvo, ten rounds from each of the three weapons.

The weapons fired, and the thirty projectiles arced across the immaculately maintained lawn. Vienna had programmed the first ten to burst ten meters from the tree line and the cloud of flechettes made short work of the enemy command group. The second group of ten burst at the very edge of the woods and the third group burst five meters down the path, peppering the lurking troops with red hot metal that penetrated Kevlar vests like tissue paper. And suddenly the survivors were pelting back down the path toward the landing beach and the supposed safety of their boats.

"Damn." Vienna growled savagely.

Azura looked up, startled, from her nursing activity. "What is it?"

Vienna turned to her friend with a look that would have chilled a sabretooth. "They're getting away."

####

The first sensations Rick was aware of were a crushing headache and a truly agonizing, burning ache in his shoulders and arms. A quick shake of his head and the flare of pain seemed to clear his senses for a moment, enough to realize that he was seated with his back to a palm tree, his arms twisted behind him and secured around the tree trunk with what felt like zip ties. _Damn, I walked right into it. Who are these guys anyway?_ Two men were standing a few paces away conversing in hushed tones and he strained to listen. His first realization was that they were speaking Russian! The second realization was a seismic shock as he recognized the red berets and the skull and crossed dagger badge – Spetsnaz! This was no ad hoc motley collection of half-trained goons like they had faced at the golf course or mall. This was the cream of the Russian Federation's armed forces, elite special operations troops – and not to be trifled with.

A rippling burst of explosions to the north shattered the stillness of the night. Three Firestorm salvos. Vienna was still alive and in the fight. A chill of anticipation shivered through his body as a dozen or so of the troops stumbled out of the woods to the north and collapsed onto the sand. At least half of them were wounded and the two men near Rick ran to meet them. Another double handful that Rick had not previously noticed ran up from the south. _Security element._

He felt the slither of cold steel on his wrist and stiffened involuntarily. The sound could've been a whisper of the sea breeze or a wry chuckle. "Kenan?"

"You must be getting old, LT. The Ghost would've never been caught like this."

"I was distracted," Rick retorted as he felt the snip of the ties binding his arms. When his guards returned, they were mortified to find that their prisoner had escaped.

####

Rick's firing range was a rectangular area one hundred meters long by twenty meters wide, enclosed on three sides by three-meter-high, hard-packed earth berms. The long axis was oriented north-south and the firing line, consisting of four poured concrete shooting benches, occupied the south end. A cart path wound its way to the south, leading to Rick's house. The ground inside the berms was a golf course-quality manicured lawn totally devoid of cover.

Opposite the firing line, about ninety meters down range, was a bullet trap. The bullet trap consisted of a box ten meters wide, three meters high, and two meters deep constructed of heavy live oak timbers and filled with hydraulically compacted earth. The bullet trap would stop anything that could be carried to the firing line by humans but had several important drawbacks. Since there was a five-meter gap between the ends of the box and the berm on each side, only two shooters could fire from cover.

The second drawback was potentially more serious. Simply put, while the entire group could easily shelter in relative safety of the bullet trap, it was essentially a dead end. The only way out would be to clamber over the berm in full view of a shooter near the firing line.

Javier led the group into the firing range and Kate immediately began preparing the Valkyrie for flight. If she hadn't been nearly consumed with worry over Rick's continued absence, she would have chuckled at the look on Ry's face: rabid curiosity mixed with anticipation and even a little dread. Almost as if he knew he was about to come face to face with one of Rick's mega-tech toys and God alone knew what it might do.

Bobby and Ry lifted the Valkyrie out of its case and set it gingerly on the ground. Kate collected the controller and powered it up. "You guys might want to step back a bit," she warned.

The two men gave her a look that was probably much like that of the Native Americans who first encountered firearms and hastily took several steps back. Her hands flew across the screen and the Valkyrie rose smoothly and silently until it disappeared in the darkness. Ry dropped his gaze back down to Kate. "What is that thing?"

"Reconnaissance drone," she replied without looking up from the screen. "I think you all need to see this."

Ry and Javier moved closer to look at the screen over Kate's shoulders. She heard the quick hiss of an indrawn breath from the Australian and a grunt of satisfaction from Javier. Kate had parked the Valkyrie at 2,000 feet over the center of the island. The screen was showing an infrared image that showed the entire island and the tactical situation was immediately obvious to the two veteran soldiers.

"They're pulling back toward the beach," Ry observed. "Think they're bugging out?"

Javier shook his head. "Nah, failure is not an option for these guys. I think they're just regrouping."

"What's up with this group," Kate asked, pointing at a glowing blob that was clearly not moving toward the landing beach.

"Good question," Javier nodded. "Can you get video?"

"Sure." She busily worked on the controller for a few seconds and the display divided the screen, showing infrared and visible light images side by side. The visible light image could barely distinguish what appeared to be two individuals moving through the brush in the general direction of Kenan's home.

"Can you zoom in a bit?" Javier queried.

"Okay."

The image now clearly showed two men and they were not wearing uniforms; so not invaders then. She zoomed a little more, and the two men could be recognized as a Caucasian and a more slightly built African. Realization came in a rush and her hand holding the controller trembled. Javier reached out to steady her. "If I were a betting man, I'd bet my next paycheck that's Rick and Kenan," he stated confidently. Then he grinned. "The Ghost and the Darkness, just like old times. Poor bastards."

"Yeah, they're outnumbered at least twenty to one," Hayley remarked.

This time, Javier laughed. "I wasn't talking about Rick and Kenan, sweetheart, I was talking about the invaders."

"Seriously? I mean I know Rick is a warrior and all, but…"

Javier started to respond, but Ry interrupted him. "Hayley, if anything, Javier is understating how unutterably deadly those two are together. I'd rather walk blindfolded through a room full of pit vipers than have those two hunting me. Sometime when people aren't trying to kill us, I'll tell you about a little exercise we ran with a full squadron of SAS troops against Rick and Kenan." He sighed deeply. "It wasn't pretty."

Kate turned her scrutiny back to the controller screen. "It looks like they're heading for Kenan's house. Why would they do that?"

"Rick has weapons caches at a couple of locations on the island; one just happens to be under Kenan's equipment shed," Javier replied. "Things are about to get interesting."

Ry was still studying the Valkyrie image. "Javier, I think we have an opportunity here." One group of the enemy was moving through the undergrowth on a course that would intersect the cart path about 50 or 60 meters southwest of the firing range. When they stumbled across the cart path, if they decided that following it was easier than forcing their way through the undergrowth, the path would lead them straight to the firing range and things would get…intense.

"You want to go after them," Javier stated, and the Australian nodded.

"Yep, with Kate and her magic Frisbee to guide us, we should be able to pull off a rather clever little ambush. Almost like seeing the other player's cards."

"Works for me," Javier replied. "There's a spot just south of here where the path makes a sharp bend. The perfect spot for an ambush if they decide to follow the path."

"All right, let's go for it,"

"Do you want us all?" Javier asked.

Ry shook his head. "No, Kate needs to stay here to operate the Valkyrie, and she'll–"

"Wait just a darn minute," Kate interrupted. "You can't leave me behind! There's no way I'm going to stay here and play video games while the rest of you kick some ass."

"Kate, you are much more valuable here than–" Javier argued.

"I don't care, I'm going," she stated firmly and clenched her jaw so tightly that the muscles twitched.

Ry and Javier exchanged a look. "Hardheaded, stubborn, pugnacious woman, thy name is Kate Beckett," Javier muttered to himself, but Ry decided to step in.

Gently placing a hand on Kate's shoulder and thankful that she didn't smack him for it, he spoke to her gently but firmly. "Kate, what would Rick say if he were here?"

She answered without a second's hesitation. "Remember the mission and do whatever is necessary to achieve it."

"And what's the mission?"

"To kick these guys' asses all the way back to where they came from." Her glare should have turned the Australian into a charcoal briquette, but his grip tightened perceptibly on her shoulder.

"That's the means not the mission," he said in his best instructor's tone. Kate needed a lesson, not a rebuke. "Care to try again?"

She didn't answer immediately, looking around at the grim faces of the people she now called friends. These bastards, whoever they were, intended to kill them all. The answer came suddenly in a flash of understanding. "The mission is to keep us all alive."

"Right you are," Ry responded with a delighted grin. "Rick said you were smart."

"But why can't I go?

"Because that invisible Frisbee thing of yours is an overwhelming advantage for us. We know where _they_ are but they don't know where _we_ are."

"And I'm the only one who can fly it." The resignation in her voice caused the men to chuckle quietly. It was almost uncanny how much Kate was like Rick, running to the sound of the guns.

Ry grinned. "Don't worry, Kate, before this is over there'll be plenty of ass-kicking to go around."

"There better be," she sighed. "What do you want me to do?"

"We're going to nip out and ambush this group," Ry replied, "We need you to make sure we don't get ambushed ourselves."

"Okay, I can do that. How am I going to communicate with you?"

"Good question." Ry turned to Javier. "How many cell phones do we have here?" It turned out that four of the group had managed to grab their phones in the scramble to escape from the house. Fortunately, they had also brought along their Bluetooth headsets. Ry snatched up those devices as if they were fragments of the true cross. "All right folks, here's how we're going to play this. Tori, Hayley, Javier and I will carry out the ambush. Kate will remain here to monitor the Valkyrie and direct us into position. Bobby and Jordan will remain with Kate to provide security. The phones will go to Javier, Tori, Kate, and myself. The ambush team won't be able to talk, so we'll have to tap a fingernail on the mike to communicate: one tap for yes, two taps for no. Got it?" Everyone nodded.

Kate spoke up. "Ry, most of the bad guys are wearing night vision goggles. Won't they spot you all before you spring the ambush?"

Ry had been hoping to not be asked that question, "You're right, Kate, they'll probably see us but I'm hoping they'll think we're friendlies for a few seconds. Just long enough to take them out."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Javier stated confidently.

"Oh?" Ry and Kate asked together.

"Yeah, you guys are forgetting whose island this is."

"You're saying Rick has some means to counteract night vision?" Ry asked.

"Yep. When Rick saw what an incredible advantage they gave our guys during Desert Storm, he knew it was only a matter of time before the rest of the world would have the same capability."

"So, he started a project to develop a way to spoof night vision," Kate added, knowing Rick well enough by now to predict his actions.

"Yes, about six years ago."

"Was it successful?" Ry leaned forward intently.

"Of course," Javier scoffed. "This is Orion we're talking about. Rick's drilled a few dry holes, but not often."

"And where exactly is this miracle of technology?"

Javier grinned knowingly. "You're holding it."

"Huh?" the Australian glanced down at the carbine in the crook of his left arm and back up. Nothing there provided any enlightenment.

Javier pointed to a cylinder about the size of a small flashlight that was clamped to the left side of the fore end. "That's it, right there."

"How does it work?" As might be expected, it was Kate who posed the question.

"Well the ten-cent explanation is that it projects an extremely powerful infrared laser that basically causes night vision devices to 'white out' and temporarily blind the operator."

"Is the effect permanent?" Kate asked.

"Yes, as far as the electronics are concerned. If they take a hit they're toast. The effect on humans is short-lived. Maybe fifteen or twenty minutes."

"What do I do to activate it?"

"There's a selector lever on the right side, above the trigger. Down is off, up one notch links the laser to the trigger, the laser fires when you fire the rifle, and up two notches fire the laser only. You need to know that the laser can only fire five or six times before it depletes the internal power cell."

"Good to know," Ry responded. "Kate, I suggest you, Jordan and Bobby take cover behind the bullet trap, it's a bit exposed here."

"All right." She led the others downrange, with Bobby carrying the empty case.

Ry called his team together for a quick briefing. "All right folks, here's how we're going to work this. The mission is to prevent the hostiles from advancing down the cart path and discovering the firing range. We will accomplish that by conducting an ambush. Our objective is to convince this element to continue to the west through the overgrown area. We are not going to seek a decisive battle. We're outnumbered, outgunned, and they're better trained." He paused and met their gaze with an evil grin. "On the other hand, if we happen to cause some casualties, I won't be too upset."

The others smiled grimly as they followed Ry down the path. He placed Tori and Hayley at the bend of the trail where they could fire directly down the path. He and Javier took their positions in the brush to the west of the path. They would provide flank security for the two women and cover their withdrawal if necessary. Before he and Javier disappeared into the brush, he gave Hayley and Tori one last instruction. "I only want you to fire one magazine, then withdraw to the firing line and cover Javier and me as we withdraw." Both women nodded their understanding and settled themselves into the dense growth of palmetto that bordered the path.

####

"You okay, LT?" Kenan inquired worriedly as Rick staggered to a halt for the second time since they left the landing beach.

"I think one of those bastards must've butt stroked me from behind."

"Dizzy, light headed, nauseous?"

"Yeah, all the above," Rick grimaced in pain as he gingerly explored the massive lump on the back of his head. His fingers came away wet and sticky with blood.

"You probably have a concussion." Kenan offered helpfully.

"I'll worry about that when our folks are safe. Let's get going." Rick's feet felt heavy and immobile as if they were encased in concrete. Every step was a supreme effort, mental as much as physical. A long-ago mantra played on endless loop, driving him forward – _Marines never quit, Marines never give up, Marines never surrender._

"We're almost there, LT, just another twenty meters."

"Run ahead and make sure the area around your place is clear," Rick instructed, not in any shape for a firefight.

Kenan disappeared into the undergrowth, while Rick focused on maintaining the octogenarian shuffle that was the best he could manage at present. Minutes seemed like hours until the African appeared at his side with no warning. In truth, he had been gone less than two minutes. "My place is clear, LT."

The news heartened Rick and he picked up the pace slightly. He and Kenan emerged from the woods near a building Kenan used for tool storage. Rick lifted the cover off a breaker box that was mounted on the nearest wall and flipped three circuit breakers in a predetermined sequence. With a soft click, a section of the wall popped open. Rick reached in and retrieved a couple of metal cases and four duffel bags.

He passed Kenan one of the cases. "Here, you need something more lethal than that shotgun you've been carrying."

"It was all I had time to grab before we bugged out for Vienna's place." He opened the case and lifted out a FN SCAR 17. The rifle was fitted with a suppressor that lent the weapon an air of purposeful menace. Rick zipped open one of the duffel bags and handed Kenan two magazine pouches with four extra magazines each. The ex-poacher snapped a magazine into place and chambered a round with casual competence.

Rick opened the second case and extracted a H&K UMP submachine gun, quickly screwing on a suppressor and preparing the weapon for battle. "Before we go, brief me on the situation as far as you know."

"They landed just north of the dock. Looked like seven assault raider boats, so around 70 men. They split up; thirty went north up the cart path toward my place. We got out before they arrived and ran to Vienna's. She had all her family in the safe room. Just as Azura, the boys, and I arrived, a group of ten or so who had worked their way around to the north assaulted the safe room which was still open. We were able to take out that group, but another couple of groups were closing in from the south. Javier called Ms. Vienna on her cell phone and told her you were missing.

"I told her I was going to find you. She sealed the room as I left. I heard a couple of Firestorm volleys. That's all I know."

"Casualties?" Rick asked, heart pounding.

'Vienna and Akahiro were both hit,"

"Nooo…" Rick moaned. "Are they…?"

"I think they'll both be okay. Their vests saved them."

"What about the south end?" Rick questioned, fearing the worst.

"I don't know much," Kenan admitted. "They were going to head for the firing range."

Rick nodded his approval. "That'll be safe for a while, but if the enemy finds them it's a little too open to be defended."

Kenan suddenly stiffened, "Some one's coming, LT."

"Which direction?"

"From the south, the main cart path."

"Heading toward Vienna's," Rick growled. "Find some cover, but don't fire unless I do." Kenan turned and trotted off. Rick watched him disappear into the undergrowth. Rick hastily closed the panel and faded back into a thick clump of palmettos. The duffel bags were heavy, but not so much that he was unable to carry all four in one trip, depositing them just inside the tree line.

The exertion made his head pound like the dwarven forges of Moria and a wave of vertigo dropped him to his knees lest he topple over. He muttered silent curses at the enemy, at his own stupidity for being taken so easily, but most bitterly of all for the physical limitation that hindered his ability to save his guests – his friends. No doubt he was feeling the effects of a concussion, but he had to push on, to fight through the nausea, pain, and weakness. He'd be damned if he'd send any of his friends home in a body bag.

He heard them before he saw them. The tramp of booted feet and the crunch of gravel announced the arrival of a group of the invaders, a group too large for he and Kenan to handle. More than two dozen if his powers of estimation were functioning. They were spread out in single file; Vienna and Firestorm had taught them a harsh lesson about bunching up.

The troops passed his and Kenan's positions and continued north along the cart path, completely bypassing Kenan's home. _What the hell are those things,_ Rick wondered, focusing on the burdens borne by the last three men in line. Each man carried a metal container about eighteen inches square. The containers were painted in the peculiar split pea green color characteristic of Russian military hardware. _I don't recognize the containers, but they're headed toward Vienna's, so not likely a box of fresh-baked cookies._

A flicker of movement seen through the demolished front entrance of Kenan's home had Rick raising the UMP to firing position. Kenan materialized in the opening, peered carefully down the cart path and dashed across the open area. Kneeling beside Rick, he declared, "I got this out of the house. Figured you could put it to effective use."

Rick's eyes lit up as he snatched the cell phone out of his friend's hand, clutching it as if it were a sacred relic. Only the arrival of a carrier battle group would have been more welcome than this simple electronic device. Until now, without communications, he had been flailing about in a Stygian darkness, unable to form even the most rudimentary plan. Now, at least he could determine the location of his troops. Troops – an almost ridiculously optimistic moniker for a group that consisted of four kids, two politicians, a chef, a business woman, two cops, and three people with military training, only two of which had any ground combat experience. Well, four if he counted himself and Kenan.

Arrayed against them was at least a company of elite special ops troops. An objective observer would probably rate their chances of surviving the night about equal to Colonel Travis's chances at the Alamo. Slim to none, heavily tilted toward none.

"Kenan?" Vienna's voice was raspy with strain and worry.

"No, it's me," Rick said in a rush.

"Rick? Omigod, Rick! You're alive!"

"I'm okay, except for a killer headache. What's your situation?"

"We're in the safe room. The sensors don't show any bad guys within Firestorm range."

"Who's with you?"

"Just my family and Kenan's. Everyone else is at the shooting range. I think everyone's okay."

"Vienna, you've got trouble coming your way. A couple of dozen troops just passed, heading north on the cart path. They've got some crates that I suspect are explosives."

"They're after the safe room," Vienna declared with a barely detectable tremor in her voice.

"Most likely," Rick agreed. "If you see anyone carrying a crate the size of a basketball, hammer them." Which was undoubtedly the most unnecessary command he had ever issued.

"Kate or Javier has your phone," Vienna informed him. "You should let them know you're alive."

"Yeah, we need to put a plan together and get us out of this mess. Sit tight and make your Firestorm shots count. We don't have any reloads."

A high-pitched whistle, followed by a thunderous explosion to the north turned his blood to ice water. Incoming artillery. "What the hell?" He exchanged glances with Kenan, hating the utter desolation on his friend's face.


	94. Chapter 94

A/N 1 Thanks for all the messages of encouragement

A/N 2 Thanks to Pen to Paper Writer for breakfast and conversation in Gettysburg

A/N 3 Thanks to Lady A for excellent editing

A/N 4 The animatronic figures are real. Kind of a Hogan's Alley on steroids.

Chapter 94

Rick frantically punched in his own number. "Please be Kate. Please be Kate," he muttered to himself as the call connected.

"Beckett." She glanced at the caller ID. "You okay, Kenan? Have you found Rick? Is he okay?"

Rick grinned as he interrupted the torrent of words pouring out of her mouth. "He's okay."

"Rick! Oh, thank God, you're alive!"

"Everyone all right?"

"So far," Kate replied. "If you're including being overrun by terrorists in your definition of 'all right.'"

"They're not terrorists, Kate. They're Spetsnaz, Russian special forces."

"Russians…? Crap."

"An admirably succinct summary, Agent Beckett". He could clearly hear Kate's huff of annoyance.

"So, what are we going to do?"

"First, I need to know – do you have the Valkyrie up?"

"Of course."

"Good. They've got some type of fire support. I need to know where they're firing from."

"Fire support?" Kate questioned.

"Yeah, artillery, mortars, maybe missiles. I'm not sure what it was, but it was big."

"Was that the explosion we heard from the north end a minute ago?"

"Yep, probably coming from a ship. Can you run a 180-degree search, centered on my dock?"

"Sure, how far out do you want me to go?" Kate asked, already directing the drone to begin its new mission.

"Try 25 klicks. If they have anything with longer range than that, we're screwed."

"Okay, give me a minute." Kate began muttering to herself as she maneuvered the Valkyrie. Twenty interminable seconds passed. "Gotcha." She retrieved her phone and informed Rick, "You're right, there's a ship about 20 kilometers due east of your dock. It's just poking along. Damn, the bow's kind of folded back and the front end's wide open. I'm sending you a picture."

Rick opened the message and scrutinized the image. "Alligator class."

Kate interrupted him. "Rick, it's a ship not an alligator. Just how hard did that guy hit you?"

"It's a Russian landing ship. That's where the troops came from. Get closer, let's see what kind of teeth this bastard has." The image spun dizzily, and the field of view expanded as Kate brought the drone to a halt 30 meters from the port bow. Barely maintaining steerageway, the ship slid slowly past.

Kate kept the drone in a hover, letting the forward motion of the ship provide a panoramic survey of the deck.

"Well, talk about using a sledgehammer to swat flies," Rick growled.

"What is it, Rick?"

"It's a gun-mortar. Nasty bastard, 240 mm. The Russians call it the 'city killer' and they're not exaggerating."

"What are those guys doing?" Kate inquired, observing four crewmen working industriously around the base of the weapon. An additional four crewmen approached bearing a stretcher-like device. The load was a bullet-shape that was clearly a projectile for the gun. Kate knew next to nothing about mortars, but the sheer size of the projectile was staggering. Ten inches in diameter and over three feet long.

"They're getting ready to fire again," Rick answered. "Oh God, they're firing at Vienna's house. Kate, let me speak to Javier."

"He's not here. He, Ry, Hayley, and Tori went back toward your house to set up an ambush." A sudden burst of firing erupted to the south. "I'm guessing that's them."

The crewmen who had been loading the mortar, suddenly retreated into the shelter of the superstructure and the gun tube elevated slightly. The gun fired with a massive **WHUMP** and a cloud of smoke was quickly whisked away by the breeze. Now the Valkyrie had a clear view of the after deck. Three crewmen were lowering the top and sides of a shipping container, laying the panels flat on the deck like the petals of some hideous flower.

Kenan had seen his friend in dire circumstances, but never a reaction like this. First, the color drained from his face and he gripped his temples with his clenched fists. They heard the shriek of the incoming mortar round followed by the thunderous explosion.

Rick fell to his knees with an agonized cry as the identity of the of the second weapon was revealed: a bundle of forty tubes, each approximately five inches in diameter and twelve feet long. But that was just the launcher; the real weapons were the 122 mm free flight rockets residing in the tubes. "They're dead. They're all dead. I killed them."

####

Kate Beckett heard Rick's words and recoiled as if struck. She had seen this kind of reaction before during the Colorado Springs terrorist attack. PTSD and now adding a concussion. Not a happy combination. "Rick? Rick, talk to me. Please." No response. "Rick, we need you. Please come back to us, to me. I love you, Rick."

Rick raised his head gingerly as if every movement was painful. "Kate?"

"I'm here, Rick."

"Is Javi back yet?"

"No, not yet. What was that thing on the ship?"

"It's a rocket launcher, a BM-21. It could flatten a third of the island if it fired a full salvo. You must get away from the range; it's the logical target the BM-21. I'm coming to get you all out, but if something happens to me, tell Javi to head for the rocks. He'll know what you're talking about. Kate, I've got to hang up. I'm sending Kenan to get the others out."

"Are you okay?" Kate questioned with a tinge of worry. Emotionally, Rick was acting a little bit brittle. Probably not unusual considering the circumstances. Rick and Kenan splitting up only heightened her concern. She'd feel much better if Kenan was with Rick. He was a Helluva wingman and tended to moderate some of his boss's more radical tendencies.

The Valkyrie's infrared image showed Rick and Kenan separating. Kenan headed north and Rick headed south toward the range. Knowing that Kate would alert him of any tangos in his vicinity obviated the need for stealth. Pushing aside the effects of his injuries, Rick managed to eke out a halting trot. He had about three hundred meters to go and it seemed as if he were touring the La Brea tar pits. Every step was an effort and the sandy soil of the island seemed determined to resist his movement.

####

Hayley and Tori crouched nervously behind a thin screen of palmettos. Javier and Ry had disappeared into the woods moments earlier; they would provide flank security for the two women while they engaged whatever enemy force was approaching down the path. Tori turned her head slightly, noting the look on the younger woman's countenance. Eyes hooded, focused, raptor-like in the piercing intensity of her gaze.

Neither woman had any real training or experience at infantry combat, but perhaps sheer badassness and coolness under stress would carry the day. The plan was simple: a straight up ambush requiring only a modicum of tactical finesse. In fact, the most demanding evolution of the entire operation would be breaking contact after firing the one magazine and rejoining their friends.

Hayley sensed her partner's scrutiny and whispered, "How do we do this?"

"They're only going to be about twenty meters away when they cross the path, which is barely more than knife fight range. These palmettos give us some concealment but no cover at all. We must hit hard and fast; I suggest we zap the first few guys to cross the path with the lasers. That'll cause a bit of confusion. Then switch to 3-shot burst mode and engage anyone we couldn't blind. Then you go right and I'll go left and meet at the rally point."

Hayley's body suddenly stiffened as her superb hearing picked up a faint sound from the woods. "They're coming," she said as she rose to a kneeling position and pointed her weapon downrange.

A camouflaged figure stumbled onto the trail. He glanced down the trail toward where Hayley and Tori were concealed, but not having night vision equipment, he failed to notice them. He turned and waved his comrades forward. The cleared path filled with Spetsnaz troopers.

Tori allowed herself a faint grin. "They look a little stressed." She checked that the fire selector on her rifle was set to LASER and told Hayley, "Go on my mark, 3…2…1...fire." The effect was instantaneous. The men without night vision fared the worst as their world went black. They stumbled and flailed around, crashing into one another and screaming in shock and terror. Hayley and Tori switched to 3-shot burst mode and began firing. Bullets scythed through the mob, tumbling several to the ground. There was no return fire and the two women fired their last shots and plunged into the woods.

####

Vienna felt the icy tendrils of fear grasp her heart when the first mortar bomb landed. The lights in the safe room flickered, then died, plunging the space into an inky darkness for a few seconds. Then the emergency lights flickered on. She scrambled to the wall-mounted control panel and scrutinized the video feeds from the security cameras. The Firestorm mount at the northeast corner was simply gone, replaced by a gaping crater. The remaining three were intact as far as she could tell, but she had no targets. Firestorm was a direct fire weapon, incapable of lobbing its projectiles over a tall obstacle, in this case the forested area between Vienna's home and the landing beach.

The second bomb detonated and the floor heaved under her feet. She stumbled but caught herself in time to avoid a nasty fall. She locked eyes with her husband, sheltering their children in his arms. His face was pale but composed, trusting her to find a way.

Her phone buzzed insistently; she scooped it up and pressed it to her ear. Her caller started talking before she even had a chance to speak. "Vienna, you need you to get your people out of the house. The bad guys have an artillery piece that's taking out the Firestorm emplacements. That's why they haven't actually hit the house yet."

"Rick, why screw around with blowing up Firestorms?" Vienna was as always, the voice of logic. "Just drop a couple on the house, kill us all, and go home."

That was a very good question. Rick struggled to fight through the fuzz that addled his brain. Why wouldn't they just kill everyone quickly and efficiently? Why would the Czar waste troops in a fit of pique? Just to make a statement…. "Oh, hell."

"What is it, Rick?" Vienna clutched her phone convulsively, expecting the worst. She wasn't disappointed.

"He wants hostages, or at least prisoners to interrogate."

"Orion." Vienna sucked in a painful breath. "He wants Orion's secrets."

"Yeah. Listen, that gun's going to fire again in a couple of seconds. As soon as the shell explodes, get everyone out through the emergency tunnel. You only have about two minutes between shots, so you've got to move fast. Head directly west until you get to the beach, then head for the rocks. Kenan's on the way to meet you – please don't shoot him."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get the others out of the range. It's going to be ground zero when they finish with the houses."

Rick turned to Kenan. "Get going, Rafiki."

"LT, I should come with you," the African protested. "You're still bleeding and…"

"That's an order, Corporal." Rick employed his "shut up and soldier on" tone. Rarely used, but all the more effective because of it. Kenan trotted off toward the north end of the island. Just as he disappeared into the overgrowth, a high-pitched whistle and thunderous explosion announced the impact of a third heavy mortar bomb. Almost immediately after the mortar round exploded, Rick heard a sudden outburst of small arms fire to the south. It was either the planned ambush Kate had told him about, or another group of the Spetsnaz had discovered the group concealed at the firing range. Either way the facility had outlived its usefulness. If the Spetsnaz commander had a satellite photo of the island and any brains at all, the firing range would become a target. That, Rick Castle could not allow. He scrabbled in his pocket for Kenan's phone.

"Rick?" Kate responded as her phone buzzed.

"Kate, can you talk to Javier?"

"Yes, he has his phone."

"Okay, they'll probably come back by the firing line. There's a storage locker there. Tell Javier to throw the breakers for the animatronics and the smoke generators. Then get the hell out of there."

"Animatronics? What is this, Disneyland?"

"I don't have time to explain. Check the Valkyrie and tell me if there are any Russians between Kenan's place and Vienna's."

Kate slewed the Valkyrie's onboard camera to focus on the area to the north of Rick's position. "Rick?"

"Yeah."

"There are six of the bad guys just inside the tree line where the cart path from Vienna's enters the woods. The rest of them are at the landing beach, but the boats they came in are gone," Kate reported.

"Going back for reinforcements." Rick sighed. "I've got to get going, those boats will be back soon, and all hell's going to bust loose."

"You're not going with us?" Rick could sense her rampant anxiety, building toward panic. Kate had acquitted herself well in several firefights, but a battle was more (so much more) than a firefight writ large. The realization that one of those bullets zinging past might have your name on it was disquieting to be sure, but well-trained troops could and did continue to function under small arms fire.

Artillery fire added another whole dimension of mayhem. Violent explosions, concussive blasts that rattled one's teeth and flung jagged chunks of metal indiscriminately in every direction. During the Civil War, they called it "seeing the elephant." The first time volunteer soldiers came under artillery fire was a pivotal moment. At Pea Ridge in 1862, Stand Watie's Cherokee regiment had never seen an artillery piece. They were routed at the first shot and abandoned the field, refusing to rally.

Of his ragtag band of not quite soldiers, only himself, Ry, Javier, Bobby, and Kenan had seen the elephant. How would the rest of the group react if the Russians unleashed the BM-21? None of the little band had ever faced the crushing fury of a full on MLRS (Multiple-Launch Rocket System) salvo, not even Rick. He had been on the good side (the outgoing side) when an MLRS battery rippled off a full salvo and he had no desire at all to be in the beaten zone when the "Steel Rain" started falling.

"I'm coming, we don't have much time."

"Thank God," she breathed, ending the call. Her phone buzzed. Checking the screen, she realized it was Javier. "Javi, are you guys all right?"

"Yeah, we're good, no friendly casualties. Can your magic Frisbee tell what the tangos we engaged are up to?"

"Sure, looks like they're beating feet for the landing beach. Hey, I talked to Rick."

"You did? Where is he? Is he okay?" Javier's rapid-fire questioning left Kate unable to squeeze a word in.

Finally, she had to raise her voice a few decibels. "Javi, slow down. He has Kenan's phone. He's on his way here. He's functioning, but he seems a bit stressed."

"With good reason. Kate, we're almost back to the firing line. Don't shoot us."

Kate turned to the rest of her group. "Hold fire, friendlies coming in." Receiving nods of understanding, she called Javier.

"Yeah, Kate."

"Rick left you a message. He said to throw the breakers for the smoke generators and the animatronics. Whatever that means."

"Got it," he responded with a grim chuckle. "That sneaky bastard."

"I see them," Jordan called out.

Kate cautiously peered around the corner of the bullet trap. "Yep, that's them." A quick perusal of the Valkyrie image revealed there were no bad guys following close on to the ambushers, so she stepped out from behind the bullet trap and waved them forward. There was a moment pause when Javier wrenched open an electrical panel and fiddled with something inside. _Must be throwing the breakers Rick mentioned_ _,_ Kate reasoned.

This was perhaps the most dangerous part of the entire mission. The ambush team had to cross one hundred meters of open ground to reach cover. They were hemmed in by the berms on each side. Their only option was a straight-ahead sprint that reminded Kate a little too much of a shooting gallery.

Javier, Ry, Hayley, and Tori dove behind the solid bulk of the bullet trap and collapsed, breathing heavily, grateful for its reassuring solidity. Their friends greeted them with high fives and fist bumps. "I hate to interrupt the party, but I think we have a problem." Kate had her attention focused on the Valkyrie display. "They're back."

The others instantly sobered and focused their gaze on Kate. "Who's back?" Javier asked."

"The Russians. The boats are back, and they're packed with troops."

Javier and Ry scooted over to where they could observe the screen. "Maybe 75 to 100 men," Ry observed. "Looks like they know we're here."

"Rick said we need to get out of here now and head for the rocks. He said you'd know where to go."

"Yeah, I know where it is. We're running out of places to hide," Javier acknowledged. "The island isn't that big."

"Kate, do you know what the three explosions we heard were? They sounded like they came from the north." Jordan's question was on everyone's mind

"They did. The ship the commandos came in has weapons and it's firing at Vienna's house. Her family and Kenan's family are hunkered down in her safe room."

"What kind of weapons, Kate?" Ry questioned.

"The three explosions you heard were from something called a gun-mortar."

Ry and Javier exchanged looks. "Could Vienna's house take a hit from a 2S4?" Ry asked.

Javier answered with a grim headshake. "No way in hell."

"Were there other weapons, Kate?" Ry continued.

"Yeah, something called a BM-21, a rocket launcher."

"Shit. A mega mortar and Steel Rain; someone out there is seriously pissed," Javier observed with a grimace.

"The crew was getting ready to fire."

"Okay, saddle up, guys, we're getting out of here." He slung his carbine over his shoulder, scrambled up the berm, and made a quick visual scan of the area. Seeing no enemies, he motioned Bobby to join him on top of the berm. With both men helping, the rest of the group rapidly scaled the obstacle and slid down the outside of the berm wall.

As soon as Kate regained her footing, she was scrutinizing the video feed from the Valkyrie. "Javi, I think those troops are going to come this way."

"They probably want to try a ground assault or they're trying to pin us down and finish us off with the mortar or rockets. Either way, we don't want to be here when they arrive. I'll take point since I'm the only one who knows where we're going. Ry, how about you watch our 6?" The Australian nodded his agreement. Javier continued his hurried instructions. "Single file and stay close enough to keep the person ahead of you in sight. Try not to make noise and if we get jumped, guys cover the right and girls the left."

Kate turned the Valkyrie controller toward Javier. The Spetsnaz troopers were moving quickly to encircle the range. There was still a gap in the circle, but it wouldn't last long.

"Let's go." Javier strode off and the others followed. When he was satisfied that the line was keeping up, he gradually picked up speed until they were moving at a fast jog. They needed to travel about three hundred meters to be certain that they had escaped the trap. Javier was impressed with his _squad._ No one was straggling, and they weren't making as much noise as he expected. Even Jordan, who was probably the least martial of the group, was staying in line and gamely clutching her carbine.

Crossing the footpath, an unfamiliar sound startled Javier. He dropped to a crouch, holding up a clenched fist to signal a halt. There, there it was again. A bird call but no bird he'd ever heard. It sounded again, much closer this time.

Tori, second in line, spoke softly, just above a whisper. "That's strange."

"What's strange?" Javier asked, puzzled by her comment.

"That bird call is the call of an Arctic Tern. There are no Arctic Terns in the Florida Keys. The nearest one is probably eight thousand miles away."

"Signal?" Javier guessed.

Tori nodded. "Probably, but who?"

"Rick, maybe? Pass the word to hold fire, don't shoot unless I do."

Suddenly Rick materialized at his elbow. "About time you showed up."

It took a supreme effort to stifle an unmanly shriek. "Dammit, Rick, don't ever do that again."

"I could hear you all coming a mile away."

"Cut 'em some slack. Green as they are, they've done great."

"We need to get to the rocks. Lead off, but you're gonna have to slow down, I'm not firing on all cylinders."

"We thought we'd lost you."

"If it hadn't been for Kenan, you would have." Rick's shoulders slumped and his glum expression ratcheted up to devastated. "I fucked up, Javi, big time. And it's probably going to get you all killed. I thought he might send a team, Maybe a couple of snipers. But I never even considered the possibility that the Czar would hit us with battalion of Spetsnaz." He sucked in a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. "I didn't have enough men, I didn't have the right weapons; I was looking the wrong way from the beginning. Worst of all, I was overconfident and underestimated the enemy." His voice dropped to a hoarse, rasping whisper. "Jesus, Javi, Vienna's kids are here. I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to them."

Javier grabbed Rick by his shoulders and shook him. "Richard Castle, I don't have time for your pity party. I've got to get these people to the rocks and get a defense organized. Now either get with the plan or get out of my way." He turned angrily and pumped his fist up and down once. He stepped out at a brisk walk, the line obediently following as he led them northwest. Two hundred meters from the rocks and safety. Rick stood, unmoving as his friends passed by, Not wanting to disrupt the line, Kate refrained from running to Rick, for the moment settling for a brilliant smile.

####

Colonel Tyurin listened intently as his company commanders made their reports. First company had been badly mauled in the initial clashes with the Americans, suffering forty percent casualties. Second company, which had arrived in the second wave, had not made contact. He felt confident that the Americans had taken shelter in the shooting range he'd noticed in satellite photos. If that was indeed the case, so much the worse for them. They were trapped, no place to hide. Now to finish this.

The first order of business was to ensure that the Americans were still inside the berms. He keyed the microphone of his field radio. "Execute," he ordered and a squad from second company moved out of the woods and advanced cautiously to the firing line, taking cover behind the concrete shooting benches.

####

Lieutenant Konievich commanded the squad. His mission was to probe the defenses and determine the number and exact location of their foes. Colonel Tyurin reasoned the defenders were sheltering behind the bullet trap since there was no other cover within the berms. As soon as Konievich's squad was in position at the south end of the range, a second squad would approach the north end and toss grenades over the berm. The defenders would be faced with a stark choice: stay in the dead ground behind the bullet trap or try to escape across open ground. Be blown apart by grenades or be cut down by Konievich's guns. The Spetsnaz Colonel would be happy with either outcome.

Tyurin's elation was short-lived. His radio crackled. "Colonel, we have a problem," Konievich reported hesitantly.

"Well, what is it?" the colonel snapped, wondering what else could go wrong with this operation.

"We can't see anything. The space within the berms is full of smoke; we have maybe 3 meters visibility."

Tyurin uttered a string of foul curses. His men did not have IR capability and he had learned the hard way not to take this group lightly. Overriding all other concerns was one simple fact: the Czar did not accept excuses. "Go," Tyurin ordered. "One volley of grenades, then Konievich's squad will clear the range and assault the north end if necessary."

Receiving his orders and tamping down his misgivings, Konievich waved his men forward into the swirling smoke. They advanced slowly and deliberately, pulses pounding, eyes straining into the gray cloud. He heard the **BANG** of grenades from somewhere beyond their limited visibility. If the Americans were going to make a breakout attempt, they should make contact any second.

As if on schedule, the vague outlines of two human figures appeared directly ahead of the advancing troops. The figures opened fire with the **POP POP** of suppressed rifles. The Spetsnaz troops reacted quickly, as expected of elite troops, and their battle drill was excellent. They dropped prone and unleashed a blizzard of fire in the direction of the barely visible foes. The figures disappeared as quickly they appeared.

The troops scrambled to their feet and moved forward, perhaps a little more cautiously than before. Two more figures appeared near the left berm, followed quickly by a third figure on the opposite side of the field. Muzzle flashes turned the smoke a lurid orange, punctuated by the muted reports of the rifles firing. Fire was returned and again the figures disappeared leaving a puzzled lieutenant and hesitant troopers.

They managed to advance another dozen meters before the ghostly figures appeared again, opened fire, and then disappeared. Konievich saw his attack begin to bog down. Maintaining position in the line was impossible as each man could only see the people immediately to his left or right. What had started as a well-ordered line formation was rapidly becoming a mob as some men pushed ahead aggressively, while others remained still or even began to edge backward.

Simply put, the lieutenant had no idea where most of his men were. To be perfectly accurate, he was a bit confused as to where _**he**_ was. It couldn't get any worse, could it? Then it got worse. Tyurin was on the radio, demanding an immediate assault, threatening arrest, reminding him what the Czar would do to them if they failed. Then it got immeasurably worse. Firing broke out, starting with a few scattered shots then rising to a crescendo. Konievich felt the first tendrils of panic arising. He was disoriented, isolated, and desperate. The heavier **BARK** of his men's AK74s blended with the higher pitched **POPS** of the Americans' weapons. At that moment, the enemy fire ceased abruptly, but the troop's firing continued, coming from every direction. Damn it, his men were firing at each other! He knew he must regain control, and quickly. He had hardly taken a dozen steps when he saw a ghostly figure looming out of the smoke. He called out but no response. Raising his weapon, he advanced cautiously toward the figure. A shower of sparks fell from a gaping hole in the figures chest – it was a robot! _We've been fighting robots! No wonder they appeared and disappeared so suddenly, they popped up from a hole in the ground._

His radio operator had disappeared, so he struck out resolutely in the direction (he hoped) from which they had come. He had to tell the colonel that the Americans had slipped the leash again. He never saw the person who fired at him, but the bullet hit his thigh, severing the femoral artery. He bled out in less a minute. Twenty men went in, nine came out thoroughly spooked and convinced that the thrice-damned Americans were lurking out there in the smoke.

Colonel Tyurin never got word that all the chaos was created by a dozen animatronic figures. Never guessing that all of his casualties were caused by friendly fire, he made the decision that doomed his command.

####


	95. Chapter 95

Chapter 95

Vienna's ears were still ringing from the third mortar round, when she turned to Kenan's wife, Azura. "We have to get out. The firestorm emplacements are destroyed. And we have no other means of defending ourselves."

"Yes, we must hurry. Azizi and Chilemba will help your husband." Vienna nodded. Azura and Kenan's strapping twin teenage sons should easily cope with her slightly built husband. Shoji and Kamika would just have to keep up with the adults. A couple of quick keystrokes at the security system console caused a section of the wall to slide aside with a muted creaking sound. The motion revealed a tunnel opening just tall enough for Azizi and Chilemba, the tallest of the group, to walk through bent over.

"You go first," Vienna insisted. So Azura led the way into the tunnel, followed closely by her sons with Akahiro in a fireman's carry. Vienna took a moment to close the panel, hoping to delay any pursuit. Then she urged her children forward to close the distance to the rest of the group. The tunnel ended in a garden shed about thirty meters from the house. In a brief time, Azura arrived at the end of the tunnel. The exit was covered by a hinged section of the wooden floor. Azura pushed the door open a few inches and listened carefully. Not hearing any anything alarming, she shoved the door open and clambered out. While her sons were maneuvering Akahiro through the opening, she strode to the single window and peered out. Her heart leapt when she came face to face with a person outside the window. She stifled a shriek when she realized the person was her husband. Kenan opened the door and slipped inside. Giving his wife a quick hug, his gaze swept the interior of the shed.

"Where is Ms. Vienna?"

"I'm here," Vienna replied as she climbed out of the tunnel. "What do we do now?"

"LT said to go to the rocks. We need to leave before they start firing again," Kenan stressed.

Vienna gave him a puzzled glance. "Why the rocks?"

"I don't know for certain. But you know LT. I'm positive he has something devious in mind."

"He does have a talent for that, doesn't he?" she responded with a strained grin. "You lead, I'll take the rear."

Kenan set a fairly fast pace. The ground between Vienna's house and the rocks was less thickly overgrown than most of the island. In fact, the last fifty meters was open beach, offering no cover at all.

They were able to cover the first one hundred and fifty meters without incident. When they came to the tree line that defined the beginning of the open beach, Kenan halted the little procession while he stepped cautiously into the open and scanned the beach to the south. He had a heart-stopping moment when he realized that a small group in single file was moving north up the beach in his direction. Looking closer, he identified the group as eight individuals. Smiling, he reached into a pocket and pulled out a small flashlight. He activated its strobe feature, hoping mightily that he wasn't making a terrible mistake.

The point man of the group reacted almost instantly. He halted the line with an upraised fist. A tall man moved forward to stand with the point. A series of flashes answered Kenan's challenge. Dot-dash-dot dash-dot-dash-dot. Morse code for RC, Richard Castle.

Kenan led his charges forward and the others stepped out as well. Both groups met at the water's edge. Sheer relief that everyone had made it to this point triggered a brief but raucous reunion. Rick reluctantly intervened. "I hate to interrupt this love fest, but we need to get off the beach." He pointed to the west where the indistinct lump of a smallish island loomed in the darkness. "We're going to wade out to the island. It's almost low tide, so the water in the channel should only be knee-deep. There's a bit of current, so someone should probably carry the kids.

"I need everyone to be aware that there are a lot of rays here and if you step on one, they can drive their stinger completely through an ankle. If you shuffle along the bottom without lifting your feet, the rays will move out of the way."

"I'll take Shoji," Bobby volunteered. Vienna flashed him a grateful look.

"Kami, how about a piggy back ride?"

"Okay, Uncle Rick." The girl climbed onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck. When she felt secure, he waded into the waters of the channel and began the forty-meter trek to the island.

####

Kate emerged from the channel and stepped onto the island. The origin of the term, "the rocks," was immediately obvious. The island was roughly circular, about twenty meters in diameter. Large stones, five feet high and three feet square, were arranged in three concentric circles. The outside circle was the largest, about fifteen meters in diameter. The innermost circle was about five meters in diameter. The center was open space and the gaps between stones were staggered to cover the gaps in the next circle so that there wasn't a direct shot at the inner circle. A thin screen of mangroves shielded the rock circles from outside observers.

The reunion immediately started up again, featuring fist bumps, hearty back slaps, and enthusiastic hugs. Kate upped the ante by pulling Rick into a scorching kiss. When they broke apart, she posed the obvious question, "What is this place?"

"I was shooting for Stonehenge," Rick admitted.

"And what's it used for?"

"Er…pagan fertility rites." Rick laughed at the blush Kate displayed.

"Did it work?" Kate smirked.

"Don't know yet."

"Riiiick."

"Just kidding. The stones were quarried to build the foundation for my house. I didn't have anything else to do with them."

Javier finished organizing the defense. Shooters were stationed at the gaps in the outer circle, with strict orders not to fire unless he gave specific orders. They were there to hide, not to fight unless necessary. Kenan and Vienna's families were ensconced in the center, the most protected spot.

"So, what now?" Jordan asked.

"First, I'm going to get us some help, then I'm going to teach them some manners." He handed his phone to Tori. "See if you can raise Coast Guard Station – Key West. Find out what they have available and how quickly they can get it here."

"On it." Tori accepted the phone and stepped away a few paces to make the call.

" _Coast Guard Station – Key West. Petty Officer Burns speaking._ _"_

"Burns, this is Captain Ellis, authentication Bravo Papa 34657 Romeo. Get me the duty officer."

" _This is Lieutenant Chase, Duty Officer."_

"This is Captain Ellis. I'm declaring Case Jericho. Major terrorist incident at Gunslinger Key." She paused for a second as the lieutenant digested her news. "What assets are available, Lieutenant?"

" _Ma'am, FRB (Fast Response Boat) Two Seven is responding to a distress call from a CFV (commercial fishing vessel) off Port Charlotte. FRB One Niner is in port. SAR (search and rescue) Jayhawk is on pad alert. SAR Dauphin is down for maintenance."_

"What can we get our hands on with some ground combat capability?"

" _Ma'am, we have One Niner's boarding team."_

Tori frowned. "They're not trained as infantry, but I'll use them if I have to."

" _There_ _ **is**_ _a company from 2/75_ _th_ _Rangers here for surf training. Maybe we can get them."_

"Perfect, have their CO call me at this number, get the Jayhawk crew on board, and complete preflight checks."

" _Aye, aye, ma'am."_

Tori ended the call and walked back to the center where the others were gathered. She met Rick's questioning gaze with a nod and held her hand up with the first two fingers crossed.

"Tori, do you know what the guard frequency for Key West is?" Rick asked as he pulled a tactical radio from one of the duffle bags he had brought from the weapons cache."

"Two-Seven."

Rick quickly set the correct frequency and began to transmit. " **Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Any Uniform-Sierra-November on this frequency: Mayday, Mayday, Mayday**." The only response was the mocking hiss of static.

Tori's phone buzzed. "This is Captain Tori Ellis. United States Coast Guard. To whom am I speaking?"

" _Captain Travis Beaumont, Ma'am, Charlie Company, Second of the 75_ _th_ _Rangers._ _"_

"Captain, you are not going to believe this, but I swear every word is true. There are a dozen civilians, including children, trapped on Gunslinger Key. The Island is about one hundred and forty kilometers northeast of Key West. The people on the island are being hunted by one hundred and fifty Spetsnaz commandos. The commandos landed from a ship offshore. They fully intend to murder everyone on the island."

" _Er… Wow, ma'am, when you spring something on a fellow in the middle of the night you don't pull any punches do you? How do you know this 'invasion' is actually happening?"_

"Because I'm one of the people on the island, Captain. Be aware that the governor of Louisiana and the Attorney General are also in danger."

" _Why me?"_

"Your unit is the only trained infantry that's close enough to get here in time. I'm in a different service, so I can't order you to help."

" _Ma'am, I don't need orders to defend my country. What about transport?"_

"I have one of my MH60s on pad alert. They'll get you there."

" _Capacity?_ _"_

"Yourself plus 10."

" _Let me get this straight, Captain. You want me to take on a hundred and fifty Spetsnaz with ten Rangers…. Cool!"_

"'Rangers Lead the Way,' right?"

" _Yes_ _, m_ _a'am. My troops will be ready to launch in three-zero minutes._ _"_

"The bird will be waiting. Good luck and thank you."

####

Rick awarded Tori a quizzical look as she ended her call. "Any luck?"

The marked change in her demeanor told Rick all he needed to know. When they arrived at the rocks, most of his band had taken on the appearance of the survivors of a medium serious auto accident. Shock and relief warred for each psyche. Tori's contact with Captain Beaumont sent the "Grim Determination Meter" off the chart. The islanders (as they had taken to calling themselves) needed to holdout for an hour, just one measly hour. They could do this. Yes, they had been surprised, but they had come roaring back and dealt the invaders a series of reverses. Now the cavalry was on the way.

Rick suddenly smacked his forehead with his open palm. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Think of what, Rick?" Kate asked.

"Josey."

"Josey?"

"Yeah. Josey Hutchins. Her new helicopter has the same capacity as the Jayhawk. If we can get twenty Rangers out here, those are betting odds."

"Isn't she the grandmotherly, middle-aged woman that flies tourists around? Isn't it too dangerous?" Hayley inquired with a concerned look.

Rick flashed his cocky grin. "Let me tell you something about Josey. She's a total badass." Seeing the other's skeptical expressions, he continued, "Josey was a CSAR (Combat Search and Rescue) pilot in Afghanistan, one of the best. The aircrews called her 'The Iron Angel'. If you went down on a mission, you could count on one thing – Josey would fly into the mouth of Hell to get you out.

"I'll call Josey and ask her to pick up the Rangers at the Coast Guard helipad. Tori, call your Ranger captain and see if he'll loan us ten more Rangers." Rick breathed a sigh of relief. The plan was made and assets were moving into position. Now, the operative question was, how could they make the best use of the Rangers? "Hey folks, we need to come up with a pl–" The eastern sky flashed orange.

"Everyone down!" Rick's urgent exclamation brooked no delay. There was a mad scramble for cover in the lee of the rocks. Vienna unhesitatingly pushed her kids against a rock, splaying her body across their huddled forms. Kate selected a monolith next to where Rick remained standing. She sat directly on the sand, back against the rock, legs stretched out in front.

Rick watched the rockets fly, their fiery exhaust a counterpoint against the star-studded blackness of the night sky. In other contexts, the display might even be considered beautiful, like Fourth of July celebrations in the distant past during the happy years when his dad was still alive. His parents would take him every year to the county fairground to see the fireworks show. Afterward his dad would regale him with tales of American heroes and desperate battles against overwhelming odds.

####

Kate, from her position next to the rock, was observing the play of emotions across Rick's features. First, a tiny flicker of fear, only a flicker, ruthlessly tamped down and cast into oblivion. Then, there was anger. A fierce anger that clenched fists and narrowed the gaze into a laser-like focus. She had seen Rick master fear. Seen him channel anger to bend people and circumstance to his will. But there was something else, something deeper and darker. She had only seen it twice before – at the golf course and the mall. Now it was there again, a sheer berserker fury that one human being could be responsible for so much death, so much suffering, so much pain.

The streaks of flame disappeared one by one as the fuel was exhausted and the rockets went ballistic, coasting to their apogee before tilting over and rushing back to earth. "They're not shooting at us," Rick mused. "They think we're still at the range. That's where they're going to aim."

Hearing that, Kate started to scramble to her feet, but Rick gently restrained her. "Keep your head down just a little longer."

"But you said…" Kate protested.

"One or two of these rockets usually malfunction. There's no telling where they'll go."

"Oh, okay."

The first rocket impacted with a percussive blast. Sand and shredded bits of vegetation fountained high in the air. The second and subsequent rockets arrived at 5 second intervals. The barrage lasted almost 3 minutes. Only 3 minutes, but none the less, an oppressive silence settled over the island. Kate allowed Rick to help her to stand. "You used to do this for a living?" she asked. "I feel like someone tossed me into a commercial tumble dryer."

Rick chuckled softly. "Yeah, I've been under artillery fire a couple of times. Nothing like that though."

Around them, the rest of the group were rising from their cover. Rick found his radio and decided to try once more to contact additional help. Morning Nautical Twilight was approximately 90 minutes away. The islanders would be at a significant disadvantage after sunrise. If the Russians made a sweep of the island, their current shelter would be much more visible. They needed to end this. " **Mayday, mayday, mayday. Any Uniform-Sierra-November on this frequency** **:** **Mayday, Mayday, Mayday.** " The islanders shared glum looks; no response.

 **U.S.S AMERICA – 50 kilometers east of Key West**

Captain Alicia Truxtun surveyed her surroundings with no small degree of satisfaction. She'd paid her dues, kept her nose clean, and even managed to acquire a Navy Cross in the course of an exemplary career. This was her reward: command of the Navy's newest amphibious assault ship. AMERICA was a prestigious command. She was essentially a scaled down aircraft carrier, capable of deploying a squadron of F-35s, a squadron of advanced AH-1Z Viper attack helicopters, a squadron of v-22 Osprey, and a battalion of Marines.

Commissioned in 2014 as the lead ship in a new class of assault ships, she was destined to be a class of one, as subsequent ships of the class were never built. In 2016, AMERICA was involved in a collision with a supertanker off the coast of Crete, suffering considerable damage. The captain was allowed to quietly retire. When the accident occurred, Alicia was just completing a 2-year deployment as XO (executive officer) of U.S.S. THEODORE ROOSEVELT. Her evaluations were through the roof, so she was ordered to manage the repair and recommissioning of the big ship, and to assume command afterward.

Now, AMERICA was in transit from Pascagoula to Norfolk, her new home port. Alicia stood quietly on the bridge, observing her relatively inexperienced watch crew navigate and manage the movement of the ship. Lieutenant Junior Grade Quentin Kelly was standing his first stint as officer of the watch. Consequently, he was more than a little nervous. Alicia stifled a grin as she saw the young officer surreptitiously wipe his sweaty palms on his utilities.

AMERICA sliced through the almost nonexistent swells at 20 Knots. She could go faster but given the ship's history, the captain was not inclined to push her luck by charging through the mass of vessels entering or departing from the Port of Miami like a mad bull.

 _A warship has several means available to monitor the ship's surroundings and identify potential threats. The most well-known of these is RADAR, which uses high frequency radio waves. AMERICA's radar suite, while not up to the standards of an AEGIS cruiser is still quite capable. A serious limitation of RADAR is that it is detectable by any one with the necessary equipment. It pinpoints the location of the emitting unit, much like shining a spotlight on yourself. The US Navy typically does not use RADAR under_ _normal conditions._

 _Another method is EW (electronic warfare) which involves listening to the signals emitted by others, identifying the emitter and plotting its position. Control of the RADAR and EW occurs in the CIC (Combat Information Center) which is one deck below the bridge. EW is passive; therefore it can function continually without providing information to unwanted listeners._

 _The third method is AIS (Automatic Identification System). AIS works much like the transponder system in air traffic control. Each vessel has a transponder on board._ _The transponder transmits vessel position, speed and course, ship name, ship size and next port of call. It is completely passive, nothing to give away the ships presence. U.S. Navy warships have transponders, but mostly do not squawk their code. This can make maneuvering in crowded sea lanes an adrenalin-charged experience._

 _The last source of information and arguably the most important is the Mark 1 eyeball. When augmented by a high-power binocular, the human eye is amazingly effective and_ _again, it is undetectable. The standard practice is to deploy four lookouts: forward port, forward starboard, aft port and aft starboard._

One of Captain Truxtun's cardinal operating principles was, "Anything worth doing is worth overdoing." In keeping with that maxim, she had deployed eight lookouts, four pairs of sailors. She felt they could help each other stay alert and provide instant verification of any sighting.

AMERICA'S intercom buzzed. Lieutenant Kelly lifted the microphone. "Bridge-watch officer."

"Sir, this Petty Officer Juarez, Port Forward lookout. Reporting a sighting, sir."

"Go."

"I don't know what it was, sir; just a series of bright flashes on the horizon. They seemed large, sir."

"Hold on, Juarez." Lieutenant Kelly addressed Alicia. "Captain, I think you need to hear this."

A couple of quick steps brought the captain to the communication station. "Put him on speaker," she ordered. "All right, Juarez. So, you saw a series of bright flashes. How many?"

"Maybe 30 or 40, ma'am."

"Hmm." The captain paused for a few seconds as AMERICA's XO, Commander Devon Asani, strode purposefully onto the bridge. Alicia wondered for about the millionth time how he always seemed to know when something was going down and invariably showed up on the bridge without being summoned. It was one of an extensive list of attributes that made him an excellent XO.

"What's up, skipper?" he queried as he took in the information displayed on the monitors that surrounded the command station.

Alicia quickly provided her subordinate with a succinct summary of the information they had developed so far. "Any ideas, Dee?"

The XO addressed the navigator whose station was only a few steps away. "Karen, put up the chart for this area on the main screen. Then superimpose an azimuth line from our position and bearing at the time of the sighting" A few keystrokes and clicks displayed the required information. "So, the source has to be somewhere along this line."

"Which means the source is either at sea or on one of the islands in the Keys," Alicia reasoned. "Are any of these islands inhabited?"

"Just this one," the navigator reported. "Looks like it's called Gunslinger Key."

Meeting her subordinates gaze, Alicia queried, "Can anyone think of an innocuous reason for what we observed?" She silently polled the bridge crew, and each responded with a negative headshake. Considering the situation, she said, "I don't think we can just ignore this. But what do we do about it?"

"AIS doesn't show any vessels in this area," the navigator notified the bridge crew. "So, whoever it is, they're not squawking their code."

"Ma'am, CIC reports no electronic emissions on that bearing."

"Very well, XO, any ideas?"

"Captain, I suggest that we run a radar sweep. That'll tell us whether there's another vessel out there."

"Very, well, make it happen. But narrow the beam to ten degrees on either side of the bearing. One pulse only."

"Aye, aye, ma'am." The XO snatched up the intercom handset and conversed for several seconds with CIC.

"Contact. One contact only. Bearing two-eight-four, Range 12.4 nautical miles," the CIC watch officer reported. "Based on the return signal strength – it's big. Not a pleasure boat or fishing trawler."

"Damn, that's close," Alicia stated soberly. "Mr. Kelly, kill the running lights, slow to ten knots and go to new course one-eight-zero."

"Aye, aye, ma'am"

The bridge phone jangled, somehow ominous in the hushed atmosphere of the bridge. Alicia being closest at the time, picked up. "Captain."

"Captain this is CIC. I'm picking up a distress call on guard."

"Put it on speaker, Mr. Kelly."

At first there was only the faint hiss of static, then a male voice boomed across the bridge, " **Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Any Uniform-Sierra-November on this frequency: Mayday, Mayday, Mayday.** "

Captain Truxtun flipped a switch to transmit. "Unit declaring emergency, please identify yourself."

Ten minutes later, Captain Truxtun glanced around at the startled faces of her bridge crew. "Who would've believed it? Spetsnaz commandos in the Florida Keys. A governor and a cabinet member besieged on a remote island.

"Ma'am, I suggest we put a UAV up to check out the ship," the XO said. "Our anti-ship capability is rather sparse at the moment."

"Agreed; what's the flight time?"

"About fifteen minutes," Kelly offered.

"Expedite it as much as possible and get Colonel Forsyth and Captain Guilford up here. Load what ordnance we have on their aircraft, and prep for takeoff."

The XO departed at a trot to supervise the arming of the two F-35s that were AMERICA's entire air wing at present. That fact was entirely likely to trigger a rant of epic proportions when someone reminded Captain Truxtun that her ship was almost a toothless tiger. Because of the length of the repair and refit, her original air wing was split up and parceled out to other ships. For what it was worth, the brass had promised the captain that her air wing would be filled out when she reached Norfolk. In the meantime, two F-35s would have to carry the mail.

The entire bridge crew clustered around the monitor displaying the take from a Heron medium recon UAV as it approached pseudo Astrakan. Kelly gasped when he saw the open bow doors. "A landing ship," he observed. "Now we know where the commandos came from."

"Correct, Lieutenant. I believe it's an Alligator Class Landing Ship. That contraption at the stern is a gun of some kind, a large one apparently. I wouldn't like to find out firsthand how much damage that thing could do if it managed to hit us. So, I'd like to keep a separation of about twenty nautical miles."

"What's that boxy thing on the foredeck?" Kelly asked.

"Rocket launcher, that's what caused our flashes. Our friends on Gunslinger Key have had a rough night," the captain responded.

"Are we going after the ship, ma'am?"

"No, I think priority is giving the people on the island some close air support. It won't help if we sink the ship and our people get wiped out by commandos.

"What now, Captain?"

"Battle stations, Mr. Kelly."


	96. Chapter 96

**Chapter 96**

 **Gunslinger Key**

"Well that was fun," Rick announced with a sardonic grin.

Kate expressed her disagreement with an eye roll and a muttered, "Yeah, right." The others expressed their opinion which mostly agreed with Kate. This experience could be tagged with many descriptors but fun was not even on the list.

Rick snorted. "Aw, come on guys. The closest impact was at least fifty meters away."

"Not far enough." Jordan pointed to a hand-sized piece of missile casing that was embedded in one of the outer ring stones.

"I'm sorry, Jordan, it's my fau–" Rick began, but choked back his words when Jordan closed the distance and poked him in the chest…hard.

"Richard Castle, don't even think about finishing that sentence! Except for Ry and Bobby, everyone here knew what they were getting into. No one blames you for any of this. We're depending on you to get us out of this mess in one piece."

"What are we getting into?" Ry hefted his carbine and grinned. "Whatever it is, it's the most fun I've had in years."

"Me too," Bobby agreed. "If you think this is bad, try presiding over a budget session of the legislature," he said with a laugh.

The resulting chorus of chuckles broke the tension and Javier sent everyone back to their firing positions.

"Uncle Rick? The speaker was Vienna's son, Shoji, he was watching the back door of the island, so to speak, facing west. The waters on that side were too deep to wade so an attack from that direction would require a boat. Using the youngster to watch the least likely avenue of attack freed up one of the adults to add firepower to the east, facing the channel.

"What is it, Bud?"

Shoji pointed to the west and slightly south. "I saw something. Just a small light like maybe a lighter or a small flashlight." Rick stepped up beside the boy and peered into the gloom. "There, there it is again," Shoji pointed excitedly.

"Yeah," Rick replied, "I saw it too. Hey, Javier, let me borrow your binoculars."

Javier tossed him the instrument. Rick quickly adjusted the eye pieces and lifted the binoculars to his eyes. At first he saw nothing but a slight movement caught his attention. He made out a small boat about two hundred meters offshore with what appeared to be a crew of two. They didn't seem to be doing anything very purposeful; maybe they were fishing or checking a string of crab pots. At that precise moment, he heard the muted whine of an approaching helicopter.

####

Josey Hutchins guided her Sikorsky SR76 with the casual competence born of thousands of hours flying rotary wing aircraft. The sleek aircraft raced along at full throttle barely twenty meters above the ruffled surface of Rio Plata sound. She was rarely plagued by nervous fidgets but at this moment she felt a creeping unease. She glanced at her watch – 05:07. Morning nautical twilight was only 40 minutes away. Her passengers desperately needed to reach Gunslinger Key before daylight robbed her friends of the cover of darkness and the odds shifted decisively in favor of the invaders.

She also wasn't thrilled about the sluggishness (admittedly slight) that she sensed through the controls. At least there was a valid reason. Her bird was loaded to capacity with grim-faced Rangers and their weapons. Ten of the troops were stuffed into the luxurious cabin while the CO occupied the co-pilot's seat. He sat a bit rigidly, Josey having sternly admonished him against touching any of the flight controls. She keyed her mic and announced, "On the ground in 5."

The words had hardly passed her lips when Captain Beaumont abruptly leaned forward. "Target – on the surface twelve o'clock."

"Got it," Josey responded, instinctively shifting course slightly to the west. Whatever the indistinct shape ahead turned out to be, she'd give it plenty of space.

An incoming radio message crackled in her headset. "Iron Angel, this is Gunslinger. Be advised, you have a small craft at your two o'clock. Range 500 meters. Looks like a crew of two. Over. How copy?"

"Good copy, Gunslinger, what do you want me to do? Over."

"Bring it on in," Rick replied. "If they're hostile, the sooner we know, the better."

"Roger that. Iron Angel over and out"

"Gunslinger, out." Rick kept the binoculars trained on the mystery boat as Kate stood beside him.

"Still not doing anything?" Kate questioned.

"No…. Oh, damn," Rick snarled viciously as he scrambled for the radio. The mission of the boat and its crew was suddenly revealed – violently revealed. One of the crew stood abruptly and hoisted an object, resembling a remote TV camera, to his shoulder. Then a gout of flame erupted, propelling a fiery dart across the sky like an appearance of a comet in ancient times. A herald of doom.

" **MANPAD, MANPAD, MANPAD!** " Rick's shouted warning coincided with the angry bark of Kenan's rifle. The tango had launched his last missile. Kenan's shot hit center mass and the heavy 7.62mm armor piercing slug ripped through his rudimentary body armor and all the major blood vessels in his chest. Body and launcher tumbled into the sea. Kenan's second shot missed when the target dove for cover below the gunwales.

####

Josey had dodged more than her share of RPGs during her career, but RPGs were dumb as rocks. Not to be trifled with as demonstrated by the Black Hawk down episode in Somalia. But given a bit of warning, a skilled pilot could avoid them. Her own eyes quickly provided visual confirmation of the launch and her dormant combat skills kicked in. The bird rolled hard left and dove for the surface. The missile exhaust trail curved toward her. This was no RPG but a guided missile. This was the first time she personally had ever encountered a MANPAD and the thought of being stalked by a mechanical killer froze her soul, but not her nerve. She suddenly remembered the unassuming toggle switch Rick had insisted should be installed on her bird. She thumbed the switch and the main display flickered a new message: _Defense Systems Activated._

 _There are two common ways to defend against a heat-seeking missile: lead it away from your aircraft by launching flares or confuse it by generating spurious control inputs using a pulsed infrared laser._ Of course, the institute had other means not appropriate for a civilian aircraft.

Neither system really had a chance to do its job; the missile was just too close. For a moment, the missile seemed to deviate, but it reacquired and bored on in. _You only got one chance at this. Gotta time it just right._ As the missile filled the windscreen, she abruptly flung the aircraft onto its side, rotor tips virtually skimming the crests of the waves. The missile smashed into the tail, shredding the tail rotor and throwing the helicopter into a flat spin.

 _It's time to do some of that fancy flying you got all them medals for, Josey girl._ Josey Hutchins gave the angels flying lessons that morning. Not one pilot in a thousand could have maintained even a semblance of control as the crippled aircraft gyrated toward the beach and safety. They almost made it. Just 50 meters short of their goal, the engines decided to pack it in. The Sikorsky cartwheeled into the sea and settled upright in shallow water.

The passengers traded astonished looks before realizing that somehow, they were still alive. As Josey struggled to clamber out of the seat, the captain who was looking at her with a mixture of awe and respect, offered her a helping hand. "Ma'am…er, Ms. Hutchins, that was impossible."

She turned on him with a somber look. "We were lucky." She shrugged off his proffered hand, rummaging around in the flooded cabin. When she emerged she was carrying a pump-action shotgun.

Captain Beaumont wasn't expecting that. "Ms. Hutchins…uh?" he questioned.

"The bastards shot down my new bird," she exclaimed with barely controlled fury. "I'm gonna get me some." The captain wisely decided that humor would _not_ be welcome, so he stifled the chuckle that was trying to escape.

At that moment the Rangers noticed two human figures trotting toward them along the beach.

###

The Coastguard Jayhawk and its cargo of Rangers trailed along 200 meters behind Josey Hutchins. Lieutenant Ethan Carter, currently piloting the bird, swore roundly as he saw the missile launch and watched with horror as the crippled helicopter fought a hopeless battle to stay aloft. Now he was faced with a stark choice: turn back or continue the mission. If the bad guys had another missile, turning back would expose his engine exhaust to the heatseeker and dramatically increase the probability of a hit. Continuing would most likely result in another downed aircraft. In any case, the decision more or less made itself. The surviving SAM gunner stood and tried to wrestle his forty-pound launcher to his shoulder. Lieutenant Carter made his decision. If they pointed something lethal at him then it was only fair if he pointed something back. He keyed the intercom and addressed the Ranger team leader, "Hey, Sergeant."

"I'm listening."

"Can your guys put some steel on target?"

"You're shitting me, right, sir? What's the target?"

"In 60 seconds I'm going to turn hard right. About 50 meters out you'll see the small boat that shot down the other helicopter. One crew who is currently trying to ready another missile."

"Got it, sir." He slapped his two SAW (squad automatic weapon) gunners on their shoulders. "Guys, you're up. Action left. Small boat." The crew quickly slid open and secured the cabin doors then connected safety lines to the two gunners.

"We're ready, sir," the sergeant announced.

"Party in 10 seconds." Then everything seemed to happen at once. Lieutenant Carter wrenched the Jayhawk to the right. The SAM gunner finally settled the launcher onto his shoulder. Both SAW gunners opened fire and a storm of steel-jacketed slugs ripped the boat apart. A string of hits stitched across the SAM gunner's chest. He fell backward, but a reflexive hand clench launched the missile. The flaming dart arced high into the sky. The missile had fired too soon but thankfully without having achieved a solid lock-on. It raced away aimlessly and exploded well clear of the Jayhawk. The Rangers slapped full drums into their weapons and resumed hammering the boat. A burst finally found the gas tank and the boat exploded with a _whump_ and a fireball briefly lit the sky.

Since no one was shooting at him at the moment, Lieutenant Carter turned his attention back to getting his passengers to the island in one piece. "Gunslinger, this is Coast Guard."

"Send it, Coast Guard."

"Where should I deliver my passengers? Over."

"Showing red strobe, Coast Guard. Over."

"Red strobe, copy that, Gunslinger." Lieutenant Carter strained forward against his harness, eyes sweeping the beach. There! A little to the left, a clearly visible red strobe. "Good strobe, Gunslinger. Tango Delta in 2 minutes."

#####

Kate, trotting along beside Rick, breathed a sigh of relief. All of the passengers from the first helicopter had survived and were now crouched in a loose semi-circle, weapons oriented outward and hard eyes scanning the surroundings. They were soon joined by six additional Rangers from the Jayhawk.

Josey broke through the circle and ran to Rick. He gathered her into a _somehow we just cheated the grim reaper_ hug that made her middle-aged bones creak in protest. "Oh God, Josey," he breathed, almost choking on the emotion of the moment. "I thought you were dead. When that missile launched, my heart literally stopped. My only thought was how could I face your son."

"I'm getting too old for this, Rick. My reflexes aren't what they used to be. So no more of this fly into the mouth of hell shit – okay? She looked over Rick's shoulder to the mostly submerged Sikorsky. "I loved that bird," she muttered.

Kate surprised Rick by awarding Josey a hug as well, allowing Rick to regain his equilibrium. "Rick will buy you a new one," Kate promised. "Won't you, Rick?"

"Uh, yes, of course. How about a Super Stallion? That would be cool."

"Rick!" Kate rolled her eyes.

Rick turned to the waiting troops. "Who's in command here," he asked.

"I am, sir. Captain Beaumont, Charlie Company, 2nd of the 75th Rangers." The young man in full battle gear stepped forward and saluted. The man addressing him was not in uniform, but it never occurred to him not to salute. The man had an unambiguous air of command. To top it off, the woman accompanying him, handling an M-4 with casual competence, practically oozed kickass.

"Follow me, Captain," Rick ordered. "Things are fixin' to heat up and we need to get your men in position. He stepped out a fast clip, heading north toward the Rocks. The Rangers automatically fell into single file behind him. Kate positioned herself at the tail end of the line, watching their back trail.

 **U.S.S. AMERICA 5O Kilometers Southeast of Gunslinger Key**

Two officers in Marine Corps flight suits strode onto the bridge. Captain Alicia Truxtun looked up and motioned them over to the display she had been studying. "How soon can you be in the air?"

Colonel Eva Forsyth, commander of AMERICA's air wing, gave her boss a quizzical look. "I'm sorry, Captain. I wasn't aware of any flight ops scheduled for this evening."

"There wasn't," Captain Truxtun admitted. "We have a bit of a situation." She rapidly briefed her subordinates on what she knew about the situation on Gunslinger Key.

"So let me get this straight, ma'am." Captain Gina Guilford quizzed Captain Truxtun. "We have a dozen or so civilian VIPs and a handful of Rangers trapped on a small island with a battalion of Spetsnaz out for blood."

Alicia nodded her agreement. "That's the gist of it."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Around four hours."

"Then how are they not dead?" the young officer blurted.

Captain Truxtun mulled over the question for a moment. "Must be a particularly feisty bunch of civilians. I don't think they can hold out much longer, though, so how soon can you get in the air?

"What are you giving us for ordnance?" Colonel Forsyth asked, already planning the mission.

"We've got eight Mk 82 Snakeyes. That should take care of our pest infestation." Captain Truxtun grinned. "The bombs are being loaded now. We'll have your planes spotted on deck in 30 minutes."

"Captain Guilford and I will be ready to launch 15 minutes after that."

"Will our friends on the island be able to hold on that long?" Captain Guilford queried.

Alicia shrugged. "They seem to have done pretty well so far. Let's be about it."

The two pilots hurried off the bridge, heading for the hangar deck where their aircraft were being prepped for the mission. "I think our friends on the island could use a little good news, don't you think?" Captain Truxtun declared to her bridge crew. She pressed the transmit button. "Gunslinger, this is AMERICA. I have a message for you. Over."

"Go ahead AMERICA."

"Hold the fort, we're coming."

"Roger that, AMERICA."

 **Gunslinger Key**

The rings of standing stones that Rick called _the Rocks_ were hosting a standing-room-only briefing on the tactical situation. Using the Valkyrie's display, Rick began pointing out significant terrain features as the Rangers crowded around. He pointed out two concentrations of Russian troops. One group of approximately one hundred were in the vicinity of the landing beach, seemingly still getting organized. The second group of about 40 men was near what used to be the north end of the shooting range before the BM21 barrage; now it was mostly blasted craters and shredded vegetation. If they continued due north, they would essentially follow the same path that Javier and his group had taken earlier.

"As you can see," Rick pointed out, "the overgrown areas provide good concealment, but not much in the way of cover. Here's what I propose." He borrowed the Valkyrie controller from Kate and using his finger as a stylus, he drew a fish hook-shaped line on the screen. The point of the fish hook was situated right in the middle of the Rocks. From there it curved around to the north and then curved south, running due south along the cart path. "The line I just drew represents an oak hummock or ridge. Its height varies from two to four feet, it's the only real cover on this end of the island."

"Sir, I don't have enough men to hold a line that long," Captain Beaumont protested.

"No," Rick agreed impatiently. "I'm not asking you to. I want you to deploy your men around the outside bend of the hook. When the smaller group moves north I'm going to take a couple of my folk out and encourage them to chase us into the open area encompassed by the bend in the hook."

Captain Beaumont's countenance brightened considerably as he realized what Rick was proposing. "Fire sack."

"Exactly. Kate and her magic Frisbee will warn you if the larger group does something creative. If they look like they're going to get around your left flank then your rally point is the ridge just north of the Rocks."

"What if we can't hold them there?"

Rick returned a predatory grin. "I've got a couple of tricks left. But ultimately, Captain, we fight. We fight and pray for help."

At their captain's command, the Rangers clambered to their feet, cinched their gear tight, and checked their weapons. Before starting out, the troops were startled when Kate, Hayley, Tori, and Jordan gave each of them a hug for luck.

Remembering Rick's stingray safety lecture, they shuffled across the channel. When they reached the far shore the small file of fighting men turned left and moved rapidly to the north, shortly disappearing into the overgrowth.

Rick shouldered the duffle bag. He'd been dragging the blasted thing around all night and it was heavy. But it was his last ace to play so he would haul it around until he could unleash it on the invaders. He cast his eyes around his friends, huddled in the shelter of the rocks, finally settling on Kate.

She met his gaze and scowled. _Dammit, he's going to go after them and he's leaving me behind again. Am I not good enough? I'm so tired of sitting here playing video games and flying that sneaky little Frisbee thing. A girl's got to have some fun…right?_ Rick interrupted her one-woman pity party before she could really get rolling. "You coming, Kate?"

"Hell yes." She clambered to her feet and unslung her carbine. "What do you want me to do?"

"For now just follow me. Stay about ten paces behind me so they don't get both of us with one burst." Without further words he waded into the channel. He spared a glance toward the east where the first hint of dawn was visible along the horizon. That would complicate things.

Kate and Rick had traveled almost halfway when there was a distinct double click from Rick's radio. "Go ahead," he responded.

"Group 2 is moving out," Tori, as newly designated Valkyrie pilot, reported. Rick answered with a single click.

He reached inside his duffle bag and pulled out a device roughly the size of a hockey puck. "I'm almost afraid to ask what that is," Kate said with an exaggerated eye roll.

"Tarantula," Rick replied, flashing his _I'm crazy, but you love me anyway_ grin.

Kate yelped and stumbled back a step. She hated spiders. Especially large hairy ones. "What do you mean, _Tarantula?''_

Wordlessly, Rick raised his right hand, revealing a small device not much different from a key fob. He ostentatiously pressed a button and the _hockey puck_ emitted a whirring sound as eight spindly legs unfolded. Rick tossed the whatever it was onto the ground and Kate gaped in disbelief as it scuttled away into the brush. "Omigod, Rick! That was one of your creepy cybernetic insects, wasn't it?"

"Technically it would be an arachnid since it has eight legs.

Kate shuddered theatrically. Just the thought of an army of robot tarantulas created a sense of little spider feet against her skin. "Richard Castle, if let one of those things near me, you'll _technically_ only have one leg _'_ cause I'll shoot you in the other one."

"Sheesh, a little touchy there, Beckett? You watch our six and I'll distribute the rest of our little friends."

"How many of those things do you have?" Kate asked from a safe distance.

"Sixty," Rick replied as he emptied the bag. Not quite enough for a true _swarm attack,_ but it's what we've got."

"Swarm attack?"

"Yeah, you use a lot of small weapons all at once instead of a few large weapons. The swarm is less expensive, harder to detect, and more difficult to engage. The cumulative effect can be quite devastating." Rick's radio emitted a double click. "What's happening, Tori?"

"Group 2 is headed right at you, be there in 5 to 10."

"Copy that, Tori. Kate and I are headed out."

"How are we going to work this?" Kate asked, practically quivering with nervous energy as she checked her carbine for the fifth time in as many minutes. Just like every other time, it was locked and loaded.

"Don't bunch up, don't run in a straight line, don't look too threatening. We want them to chase us, not run screaming for their boats…yet." And with that, he was off in the peculiar scuttling lope of a trained infantryman. Kate darted off to the right and did her best to imitate Rick's movements.

A guttural shout sounded behind them; they'd been seen. Rick turned and popped off a round, not particularly trying to hit anyone. The Spetsnaz troopers' blood was up and they would likely be more concerned with the sweet revenge they craved than the tactical situation. The enemy fired a ragged volley but failed to connect with either of the elusive will-o-the-wisps flitting through the light brush. Their shouts rang out aggressively, urging each other on and hurling vile epithets at the source of their troubles. Another burst of fire slashed through the foliage and Rick heard a yelp of pain from off to his right. "Kate?" he called, his voice hoarse with worry.

"I'm here, Rick."

He found her a few paces away, kneeling behind a large clump of palmettos. "Are you hit?"

"Yeah, in the back, but my vest stopped it. Hurts like hell, though. Help me up."

With Rick partially supporting her, Kate was finally able to suck in enough oxygen to fuel a desperate dash for the oak hummock and the thin line of Rangers. The enemy had quit firing, most likely because they wanted to take their tormentors alive.

Their quarry disappeared into the overgrowth and for a pregnant moment, nothing happened. Then the treeline erupted with the baleful glare of muzzle flashes. The Spetsnaz troopers were deep in the fire sack and Captain Beaumont had sighted his weapons skillfully. The interlocking fields of fire chewed them to bits.

Kate and Rick knelt in the shelter of the low ridge that was the oak hummock. Gradually, their breathing and pulses returned to normal. "Was it good for you too?" Rick flashed her a slightly pained but cheeky grin.

"I was just wondering, why do our outings always seem to involve gunfire?"

"Just keeping the excitement in the relationship, Beckett."

"Our relationship not exciting enough for you, Castle?" Kate questioned with mock severity.

"It's…um…perfect," he professed. Then realizing that the firefight had died down considerably, he reached out to help Kate to her feet. She grasped his bicep to steady herself, eliciting a grimace and hiss of pain. Her hand came away wet and sticky.

"Rick…, you're injured!"

"Just a graze. I don't think it's even bleeding any more. Come on, We need to get back to the Rocks. I want to see what Valkyrie has to say."

Rifle fire continued to crackle sporadically through the still morning air as the survivors went to ground and endeavored to extricate themselves from the trap. Rick and Kate managed reach the channel opposite the Rocks without attracting undue attention. Rapidly becoming second nature, the _sting ray shuffle_ delivered them to the islet and a somewhat subdued welcome from their friends. Rick grabbed the Valkyrie controller and slewed the video to the area of the landing beach and cart path.

"Dammit," he groaned in frustration. The Spetsnaz troopers were moving north along the cart path in a dense column. Their intent was readily apparent: move north along the path using the wooded area to screen them from the Rangers and fire from the islanders. Then the head of the column would hook around the rangers left flank and roll up their line from east to west. This move would overrun the scanty line of Rangers or force them into the open where the first attack had gone in. Either way, the Americans would be destroyed.

Rick's radio buzzed, stridently demanding attention. Who the hell could that be? He ignored its continued nagging for a few seconds as he made certain that Captain Beaumont was carrying out the order to shift his men to the rally point before they were submerged in a seething cauldron of Spetsnaz.

Withdrawal under fire was one of the most difficult and dangerous of tactical maneuvers. But Captain Beaumont was eminently competent and the maneuver had been trained and practiced until it was second nature. He had hardly given the command before the troops were already moving like clockwork, one group racing back to the next position while the rest provided covering fire. Now the young officer faced another challenge. To keep the enemy at bay, they needed to maintain almost constant fire. They were rapidly depleting their ammunition, especially for his heavy hitters, the SAWS. For a fleeting moment, he was tempted to pass the word to make every shot count. He squelched the idea almost as quickly as it formed. His men were veterans and would rightfully resent being treated like twelve-year-olds.

####

Rick retrieved his radio and heard the words that sent his hopes soaring. "Gunslinger, this is Sabretooth Lead. Come in."

"Sabretooth Lead send your traffic. Over."

"Gunslinger, I am approaching from the south with two Foxtrot Three Five. A little birdie told me you might have some work for us. Over."

"Hell yes! Hold one, Sabretooth."

Rick turned his head. "Kate, pass me the Valkyrie Controller." She practically shoved it into his hands.

"All right, Sabretooth, Let's see if this sensor fusion thing really works."

"Gunslinger, this Sabretooth thing is a little formal. My friends call me Bama. Over." Colonel Forsyth tended to be a little irreverent, but 2 Distinguished Flying Crosses and 2 Silver Stars earned her a smidgen of tolerance.

"Roger that. Bama as in University of? Over."

"Roll Tide, sir. Over."

Rick continued to fiddle with the Valkyrie controller until he gave a grunt of satisfaction. "Bama, this is Gunslinger. If this thing is working, you should see an overhead view of the island on your main screen."

"Affirmative, Gunslinger, good copy."

Using his finger as a stylus, Rick began by drawing a blue circle. "All friendlies are in this circle."

"Gunslinger, copy that, no bombs in the circle. Over."

"The bad guys are here." He drew a red slash over the cart path. "This path is your target. I'm getting a little tired of the path anyway. Maybe you could redecorate. Over."

"Roger that, Gunslinger. Over."

Rick drew a white X just south of the island. "Bama, this is your IP and your attack vector is zero one zero. Be advised, they've launched two MANPADS so far."

"Gunslinger, be advised, your designated target is Danger Close."

"Bama, I'm aware, but I've got the better part of a battalion of Spetsnaz crawling up my ass and a bunch of civilians to protect. If you don't miss, we'll be fine…. Now go show them how we do CAS in the Corps. Gunslinger over and out."

"Archer, drop back to four zero zero meters trail. There's going to be a lot of debris flying around. I don't want you to FOD your engine over a chunk of palm tree. All right, let's go." Colonel Forsyth pushed the throttle forward.

Rick stood in a gap in the outer most circle of the Rocks. His posture was stiff and straight, almost as if he was standing at attention. Kate slipped up next to him and put her arm around his waist. Other than a slight flicker of an eyelid he gave no sign that he was aware of her presence.

A minute tremor rippled through his body and Kate strained to see what Rick saw that was affecting him so. She quickly realized that it was not something he saw but something he heard: a far-off rumble like thunder, but not thunder. It was getting louder by the second until the roar seemed to shiver the very air. Rick finally spoke, but not to her. He spoke to evil incarnate, a malevolent spirit that saw human beings as cattle for the slaughter. "You want a war to the knife? So be it."

Behind her she heard a burst of firing as the Russians raked the erstwhile positions of the Rangers with hot lead. A baying shriek of bloodlust so soul-wrenching that Kate wondered how such a sound could issue from human throats, echoed across the open beach.

Rick was still standing, and he spoke again. "Mr. Czar or whatever you call yourself, you called down the Thunder. Now meet the Lightning."

Kate barely had time to identify the onrushing aircraft before the bombs were falling The first Snakeye impacted, flinging debris high into the air and a cloud of dust was swept out to sea by the breeze. Bama's remaining three bombs hit dead on the cart path and the assault was over before it could begin. A few seconds later, Archer's four Mk 82 general-purpose bombs filled in the gaps left by Bama's attack. The troops that had landed on the island, all overweening confidence and swagger, had had enough. They'd been thwarted at every turn, subjected to relentless attacks by foes that appeared and disappeared like ghosts. Foes that somehow managed to avoid every trap, every ambush. The more superstitious among them were convinced that the island was inhabited by wizards. Enough was enough. The majority were now clustered on the beach opposite the Rocks. They seemed to be arguing about the best way to get back to their boats. A couple of the invaders suddenly pointed directly at the Rocks. They were too far away to hear the conversation, but Rick could guess.

"That's the one place we didn't search," they said in Russian. Six men broke away from the main group and waded into the channel. Hardly 6 paces in one man suddenly screamed and began to thrash wildly. He managed to stagger ashore with an eighteen-inch stingray impaled in his ankle. When a second man repeated the performance, the rest turned back and bolted out of the water.

"Oh, crap," Rick shuddered. Two of the invaders were readying RPGs. "Kenan, Ry," he called urgently. "Take out the RPG gunners." Rocket propelled grenades were designed to kill tanks. He didn't want to think about what two of them would do to the soft coquina stone that made up the Rocks. The muzzle flashes of Kenan and Ry's shots alerted the troops across the channel a veritable hail of bullets sent chunks of coquina whizzing about. Rick snatched the Tarantula controller from his pocket. "I think it's time to play my ace." He pressed the key in the correct sequence, then sat down beside Kate and leaned back against one of the stone pillars.

Curious, Kate inquired, "What do those creatures do actually?"

"Well if you think of a self-propelled, autonomous grenade you'd have the gist of it." The rifle fire had died down. The Tarantulas were in full attack mode, springing from hiding places in the brush to detonate at close range and the invaders were in full panic mode, fleeing helter skelter toward their boats.

The islanders left the shelter of the Rocks and waded across the channel, deeply appreciating the fact that no one was shooting at them.

Kate allowed Rick to put his arm around her. "Helluva day," she stated wearily.

"There is nothing as terrible as a battle lost, as is a battle won."

"Who said that?" she queried. "That guy you're making me read. Sun Tzu?"

"No, Robert E. Lee."

"Well, at least the Battle of Gunslinger Key is over."

"The battle is over," Rick agreed. "But the war is just beginning."


End file.
